#you were curious) and use it to kill him the ending shot just before i woke up was of me sitting in a ruined room rubbing ash and insulatio

[child-of-the-sea-and-sky]

I need to Not buy this brand of melatonin again

Shits got me having horrifying nightmares most nights right now

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Met The Devil

lucifer x human!reader

based on folklore about the devil, cause i thought that would be cool teehee

Part [2]

Warnings: SMUT 18+, implied fem reader (clit use), based on devil folklore so possibly ooc lucifer, so sorry but lucifer our boy ain’t that caught up on lilith here, penetrative sex, didn’t proof read so lmk if you see any mistakes, no mention of hairtype/bodytype/skin colour, swearing,

Word count: 4K

Your shoes clacked against the concrete, water from puddles splashing out from underneath your feet. The rain poured down vigorously, and unforgivingly. Your hair ruined, your clothes soaked and your mood sour. It’s been a trying day starting off with a failed job interview and ending with bending over backwards for people who didn’t deserve it.

It wasn’t even like you couldn’t handle a problem, or a hurdle, but it seemed like every path you took led to a dead end. You were tired, broke, and felt drained, you would kill for just a break from the failure.

Your pace slowed long ago, not really wanting to return into a room full of loud family members with critical opinions. You dragged your feet through puddles of water, feeling the cold rain soak through. The storm raged on clouds continuing to pelt down fat droplets, you inhaled the smell of wet grass, damp concrete and mud as you strolled.

The amber street lights above you were dim, and your eyes danced around the street lazily, observing everything and nothing. Just a few feet away from you was a bus stop, with a shelter and a bench, figuring it’d be better to not be drenched completely, you decided you’d have a seat maybe the rain will dissipate.

You dragged your feet focusing down at them as you walked into the shelter. As you turned into it, you bumped into someone jolting you backwards slightly. Reflexively your head shot up from your feet to see a man’s back, he quickly turned to you. You observed his clothing his head held a rather out there looking white hat, shoulders holding up a long white chesterfield coat along with white boots to match his monochromatic look.

Meeting his eyes you admired the unique colour; they looked light brown, but they were such a concentrated colour it could’ve been mistaken for an amber or perhaps orange. He was very pale, and poking out of his hat extremely blonde hair you briefly had the thought of perhaps he just lacked in melanin; he was albino, and so you moved past it. Standing fairly short even with his boots, he seemed like a wealthy man, and perhaps a model too, there’s no way he couldn’t be with such a catching appearance. The man gave you a wide grin, showing off his sparkling teeth, perfect as you expected. “Hi!” The strange man shouted, a rich booming voice coming out of him. You didn’t know what voice you expected to hear from him, but the slightly unsure, sultry one definitely wasn’t it.

Stepping back from him lending him some personal space back, you smiled nervously. “Hi, i’m sorry i thought- well i didn’t see anyone in here, sorry.” The man ‘pfft’ at you, eyes closed momentarily, head tilted back. “It’s not a problem at all! Eh, i was just stopping by!” Waving at you he stepped futher in the bus shelter, opening his arm to welcome you in excitedly.

You watched him intently as you walked inside, you felt curious about him as he had an aura you couldn’t quite place. When inside you stood parallel to him, watching as his posture slowly decompressed like he was glad you were here. You briefly wondered what he meant by stopping by it didn’t seem like the appropriate term to use in this scenario, but you argued with yourself that he could’ve been flustered.

Gazing down at his arm a cane had appeared- one that wasn’t there before, you had to do double take, assuring yourself that you were seeing things correctly. As you did so, he leaned ever so slightly on it putting more trust in the cane then he probably should have. “An apple?” You questioned observing the handle that he grasped with gloved hands. His eyebrow rose with a confused expression gracing his gorgeously sculpted face waiting for you to elaborate. “Your cane, sir.” You smiled nodding toward it, feeling a strange sense of adoration him and for the far away look in his eyes, one you recognized. “Cane? Oh, OH! My cane, ha! Yes uh, apples. They’re, uh gods gift after all.”

Realization flooded his face, smirk reappearing as he leaned forward just a bit, as he did so you felt a sudden sense of familiarity that was almost sickening. You’ve never felt such a pull before to a person like you did in this moment. “Would you like an apple? It’s cold out, you must be tired after such a long tedious day.” Watching him as he dug into his pocket pulling out a decently sized apple- perfectly red as well.

Tilting your head to the side questioningly you ask; “How did you know my day was tedious?” The question came out gently, quiet, void of any accusation or fear. Instead you felt calm gazing from his captivating eyes to the apple, hand stallled just a bit away from yourself reaching toward. “It’s so evident on your face, you poor thing. Here go ahead sweetheart.” His voice that was once insecure, unsure and bouncing in pitch, was now relaxed, smooth and hypnotizing.

There was no malice or condescension in what he said, but rather an observation of what you failed to hide in your current state. Nodding with a short shrug, you reach further, the man meeting you half way to place the fruit in your palm. Your hand briefly touched his own gloved one, they were warm as ever, and you’d wish you could’ve gotten more of a feel.

Smiling at him you suddenly noticed his lids were covered in a lavender purple, perhaps you noticed because they were lidded at you now, unlike before when they were wide. His smile was lazy as he watched you bite into his fruit. It was probably one of the more fresher apples you’d ever bitten into, and as you swallowed the first bite your stomach growled, literally demanding more.

The strange man in white chuckled at the sound of your stomach, and before you could let embarrassment consume you he spoke. “See! So glad I found you, wouldn’t want you starving now would we?” It seemed he had gone back to his boisterous mood as he watched you crunch happily down.

“Thank you so much sir, this is such a good apple, really, did you grow this in your garden?” You asked him, he came closer standing beside you, the two of you now facing the road, looking out at the rain. “Mm, not my garden…” The man muttered under his breath, you quirked a brow humming at him barely hearing what he said. His eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “Heh! Oh nothing sweets! Don’t worry, i was just, uh, remembering some stuff. From. Like, the past.”

It was as if he’d lost his cool for a moment, stumbling over everything that came out of his mouth, his gaze fixed ahead at nothing. You admired the side of his face as you chewed the last bit of apple, his head slowly turned to you, eyes catching your own.

“You’re eyes are ethereal.” You breathe eyes squinted in focus as you drank him up. You didn’t fully mean to say what you said, it was something just burst out of you without restraint because you felt so strongly about the beauty they held.

Stuttering, he blushed finding it hard to gather the words under the heated look you were giving him. “Thank you, YN.” The man finally said easy going smile once again present on his face. Before you could say anything in return- including questioning how the hell he knew your name, he again reached in his pocket this time pulling out a single playing card the king of hearts. Furrowing your brows you accepted the card but didn’t understand why he gave it to you.

“Love a good game of cards, always have! I think we’ll see each other some day soon!” The man exclaimed smiling brightly at you, behind you, you could make out the sound of a bus coming up to your stop. You smiled and thankedthe man regardless of the oddities, he returned the gesture smiling toothily at you. He rested himself against his cane again watching you intently as you glanced behind you. The bus lights lit up your figure, and you supposed you’d get on for the rest of the ride home. Turning with a smile to say your farewells to the mystery man, your stomach dropped. The man had vanished, and you’d only looked away a second. Stepping out into the rain, you peered up and down the long streets, unable to see his white coat or hat in either direction.

Standing next to the curb the bus whined to a stop, the compressed air blowing out warmly at your legs. When the bus driver opened his doors, you stepped on tapping your finger against the safety glass. The conductor looked at you exhausted by the night and the people he handled.

“Sorry if this is strange, but did you see anyone in the bus shelter with me?” The diver looked at you and it was obvious to him he couldn’t care less, but you stayed put waiting the vocal confirmation. “No ma’am, but if i’m being honest i wasn’t paying attention.”

You nodded quickly eyes casted down, thanking him you put your toll in and walked your way down the isle. When in your seat, you pulled out the card once more to inspect it in the light. Your eyebrows lifted looking down at the card, written on the back where there was nothing before, now had beautiful calligraphic writing with an address on it.

Typing the address into your phone, it directed you to what looked to be a website where people posted looking for house sitters. Turning your mouth in a disgusted manor, you silently questioned why the hell this man would give you such a thing. Scrolling through the different enlistings, you boredly read through descriptions and pay killing time until your stop.

Just a few stops away from home, your thumb stopped on a house, it was a pretty decent home appeared to be some sort of log cabin. The pay they were willing to give was generous, and it was only for three days, oddly enough. Clicking on it, you read through the description, they asked not to bring pets, eat their food, or sleep in their bedrooms asking to bring something to sleep on.

It was a two hour commute by drive, but seeing as you didn’t drive, it was a four hour commute with the train. You sent the owner a quick message telling them that you needed the pay and you were willing to comply to all the rules no issues. After sending your message, you stood mirroring the robotic voice as it called the name of your stop.

—

“Hi welcome!” Marie greeted you with a handshake, smiling at her you shook back. Walking into the cabin alongside Marie she explained that she needed to pick her husband up from a business trip from the middle east, and her house was too high maintenance for her to leave behind. “Occasionally, the pipes will freeze if the temperature drops, you the heat will need to controlled carefully. There’s a garden outback i am very proud of, i’d really appreciate you checking on it daily, just to make sure no pesky animals intrude.”

Walking through the house, you notice different things hanging, but no family pictures. The house was filled with mahogany and oak woods, which were really gorgeous, the house was dark and lit by yellow lighting from different chandeliers and vintage looking collectors lamps.

“Oh! Also if you need we have a prayer room! Don’t touch anything in there as they’re very expensive. Besides that, you’re good. Alright i gotta run, this willl be a very tedious trip. Call me if you have any problems.” Nodded as she spoke, you walked along side her towards the front door. You smiled at her assuring that all would be well, and if there was any problems you wouldn’t hesitate to call.

—

Another rain storm moved into the area thunder shaking the cabin. You had a cot set up in the living room per Marie’s request, and your food was put away in the fridge. You had gotten into shorts and a t-shirt now that you didn’t have to worry about being presentable and settled in the cot with your phone and laptop.

You’d been in the house for ten hours now, and you weren’t able to relax, paranoia filled your mind as you felt off about being in a strangers home. The urge and need for money fueled you in the beginning, but now alone in the middle of the woods, in a cabin that isn’t your own with a thunderstorm overhead, yeah you were filled with anxiety.

Just as you felt a bit of tension release from your shoulders, three knocks sounded from the door making you jumped from the disruption of silence. Standing cautiously you walked to the fire place grabbing one of the pokes that sat off to the side, and went to the door. Peeping through the hole you were surprised to be greated by the man from the bus stop. He held the rim of his hat down over his his face that held a scowl of discomfort, slumped over and soaked.

Opening the door you stood the fire poke off to the side against the wall. Despite your apprehension and confusion, something in you felt compelled to open the doo. “What the hell?” You exclaim, watching him perk up at the sound of your voice, eyes naturally finding your own. “Oh you! Y’know i had a feeling you’d be here, uhh, mind helping me out. It’s freezing!”

Grabbing his bicep you tugged him in, him letting out waohs as he stumbled in letting you do as you pleased. Slamming the door behind you, you grabbed his shoulders gently looking into his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing all the way out here? God, you’re soaked.” You saying eyeing him, he was wearing the white outfit he had on nearly two months ago.

Walking to your suitcase you pulled out a towel, t-shirt and joggers for the man. Turning you walked back to the entry to see him already half naked, gasping you spun on your heel. “What the hell dude! Put this on!” You screamed tossing all the items behind your back.

The man laughed, it sounded charming and he seemed delighted at your shock. “Don’t worrrryyy, its no biggie. Look as long as you please.” Scoffing you turned seeing him with the joggers on, hat tossed to the side drying his hair. “You look very good tonight,“ The man trailed eyeing you up and down.

You felt hot at such a statement making you feel like a horn dog. You crossed your arms and gave him a grin. “Can I help you by the way, maybe call you a car? I’m uh, house sitting.” You explain walking up to him, he shook his head smiling coyly at you. “No no, thats, fine.” You went to question further but he had other ideas and brushed past you wandering into the house.

“I don’t even know your name!” You say speedily following him as he observed everything in the cabin he passed. He glanced back at you briefly before muttering; “Lucifer,” Quickly before you could get a word in edge wise he turned aburptly stopping, you bumping into him lightly. “And I only ask that you spare me a few hours, maybe a meal?”

-

So there you two sat, you had ate with the man, and now sat listening to the stories of a man who swore up and down his name was Lucifer. He explained his predicament while you ate, saying that he just took a wrong turn and drove into a ditch.

You laughed along he told you interesting and funny stories of his life and the people around him, telling you about his crafting hobby. Which captivated you the most, honestly you were mesmerized by the man, and he seemed to feel the same about you.

His eyes lidded and relaxed, his chin rested on his hand, leaning forward completely encapsulated by your presence. You never had a man so focused on you, he hung on every word, and you felt that framillar tinge once again, pulling you into him.

The magnet kept pulling you in, and you were ever so hungry for the man in front of you. “Yeah, my daughter uh, she’s like me with the ambition. I’m just afraid she’s gonna end up like me.” Lucifer said shrugging while looking off to the side. You wont deny you felt the slightest bit upset at the statement, daughter implies mother. “Even if she does fail the only thing can do is be there for her through the trip. It’s harder to fail alone, i think.”

Nodding in contemplation the blondes eyes came back to you, his hands came the the middle of the table causing your gaze to drop. His hands twisted, flicked and your focus was now on a gold circle spinning on the table. His wedding band.

“She’s been alone a long time, my wife, she left seven years ago, we’d been divorced since Charlie was a toddler, heh, kept hoping she’d return. I left Charlie alone too, kinda thought it was for the best. Not anymore. We work together.” He explained smiling at the mention of his daughter. Slapping his hand atop the ring ceasing its momentum he looked at you watching as you placed your hand ontop of his, gently caressing him as you did so.

The two of you stared at each other silently, for how long you weren’t sure. It wasn’t until he pulled himself to his feet sluggishly that the staring spell broke. The confidence returned to him, as did his mischievous smirk. You were under the assumption be was ready to go so you stood with him.

Just as you were about to speak, thanking him for the unique experience he granted you, he grabbed you by the arms and tugged you into him. You fell forward hands flying to his chest, meanwhile his head tilted and softly his lips met yours. You didn’t have time to question a thing before your lips danced in tandem with his. Perhaps you should’ve been less willing than you were but how could you not be? It was like a gift from god, this man.

You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him to your chest, his hand moved from your arm to your hips grinding himself into you needily. You whimpered at the contact feeling how excited he already was, when you whimpered he took the chance to sneak his tongue into your mouth. As your own tongue slid past his you stuttered feeling how long he could reach, and moaned at the way he tried to swallow you whole so nastily.

Pulling back slightly, Lucifer paused as you felt the fork of his tongue. Shocked you pulled back fully looking at his lustful expression, it was almost as if his eyes were a darker shade.

“What’s wrong?” He asked hands slowly travelling from your hips up to the hem of your shirt, toying with it. “Your tongue?” At your inquisitive tone, he stuck his tongue out. “Thish?” He spoke through is tongue that stuck out to your, normal sized and unforked.

Smirking at him you shook your head gently you must’ve been nervous. Pulling him toward your make shift bed you two crashed down on it haphazardly, he leaned back on his elbows watching as you crawled on top of him meeting his lips eagerly. His hair was slightly disheveled, his breathing jagged under you.

You slid yourself up and down, gliding yourself purposely right on his hard on. Pulling away from the sloppy make out session you two were in, Lucifer looked at you with glassy eyes. “Let’s make deal,” He breathed panting to catch some of the breath you stole straight from him.

“What?” You whispered inches from his lips. “Let me have you, all of you and when the time comes you’ll be a queen, you’re just a diamond in the rough.” There was almost a saddness you could detect, maybe something you could describe as mournfully lonesome. You felt the tug; the pull to him you couldn’t deny, so you took his hand away from your hip, and shook it. “Deal.” You say mocking something that would be business offical.

With a sly grin, he pushed himself up to you, your lips crashing into his instantaneously. You bit his lip gently as he grinded himself into you enjoying how unashamed he was of showing his desire. You met his grinding with your own, dragging your hands down his warm chest. Lucifers breath stuttered at your touch, his nails sinking into your flesh with anticipation.

You stopped at the band of the joggers pulling away from the kiss. As you did Lucifers eyes were wide, pupils blown and he robotically lifted himself by his hips, awkwardly shuffling his joggers down. You lifted yourself so he could get them the rest of the way down before tossing your shirt to the side.

Grinding down on his uncovered cock you moaned head thrown back, he was all consuming and the air felt so hot after the deal. It was desperation that was evident on both your faces, Lucifer hypnotized by you as you greedily grinded against him. Lucifer whimpered laying back down flat on the cot trying to stop himself from violently bucking up.

“Tell me what you want Lucifer,” You purred lifting your hips from his boner rotating your hips round and round while just barely touching his dick beneath you. “Fuck please, get on me.” Lucifer gritted out teeth clenched, eyes closed sparkling at how tight he had them sealed.

Manurvering yourself you pulled down your shorts and urged him to sit up. Lazily he followed your pull sitting up straight toward you. You liked this position way more, face to face as your sunk yourself down on his cock. His legs jerked, spreading out falling off each side of the caught causing you to bottom out, slipping right down to his balls.

“Oh shit you’re an angel, fuck, you feel so good, oh,” Lucifer whimpered voice wavering, although he smiled through the pleasure. Unwillingly he fucked up into you, your body unmoving jerked up with his hips, you were too busy getting used to him girth and size not to mention his all consuming presence. He was so hot, smug, and it made you feel hornier than you already are.

Sliding your hips forward you whimper and moaned. Face in your neck he breathed you in, whimpering as he continued to fuck up into every now and again, still trying to hold back for you. You wrapped your legs around his back clenching on unable to speak as Lucifer had your brain wiped of all thought.

Lucifer bit down holding back a groan, effectively drawing blood from the wound, licking it right up after. Suddenly like a madman, he gripped you like a life line, gently but swiftly flipping you over onto your back. He looked down at you with red eyes stunning you into silence. “Lucifer?” You whispered breathlessly as he smiled down at your form, his tongue darting, out forked once again, and dragged his devilish tongue against his no longer normal teeth.

Without responding he sunk himself into you, your legs on their own accord flew up around Lucifer as he slowly plunged himself into you. You cried out in pleasure as he picked up the pace slamming his hips into you, skin slapping filled the room as well as Lucifers gravel groans and growls.

Your eyes were closed as you reached up to him, your body jerked at his thrusts the cot creaking. You pulled him toward you, he made no effort to pull away from your tugging. His lips met yours pulling you into a hot kiss, you met him with need, teeth clashing and tongues twisting. You being to fucked out in bliss to realize the razor sharp teeth that nicked your lips and tongue, or the snake like tongue that explored your mouth.

You moaned at the sensations you felt all around you, your heightened senses picking up the cold snake like skin that whipped by your calf. Opening your eyes you clenched coming face to face with Lucifer, the devil, the literal devil.

Long red horns stuck out from his pale skin, red eyes lidded and glowing down at you, sharp teeth evident by his smirked. His pace never slowed as he watched you stare at him, and his pride swelled at the fleeing of you clenching him tightly, legs simultaneously pulling him in closer.

“Like what you see angel?” You mewled at his words grabbing his shoulders as he looked down at you eyes full of desire and pride. “Yes,” You gasped as he hit a pretty little spot inside you that made you sing to him.

“Please Lucifer!” A rumble sounded in his chest a noise you couldn’t describe. Attempting to stabilize your jerking body, your hands moved to grip his back but paused at the feeling of feathers. Lazily your mouth fell open, body jerking as your head tilted to the side getting a better look at the red and white wings that cascaded far across the room.

“O-oh, my god, fuuuck.” You moaned trying to make sense of the display in front of you but Lucifer pressed his finger down on your clit making you loose control of your mind once more, bucking up to him, begging him.

You pleaded to Lucifer like a chant to him, looking into his red glowing eyes. His smile was gone his eyes lidded eyebrows pinched as he fought off the urge to cum just a little longer.

With a shout your body shook tensing, toes curling, Lucifer muttered your name over and over worshipping your name as you did to him. His hips halted deep within you and he bit down on your neck leaving several different bite marks.

Pulling away he stared down at your sweaty body his demonic form shrinking away, his eyes going yellow with his natural red irises. You stared shocked at him, but he only coyly smiled at you. “How was your date with the devil?” He smiled brushing his hand down your cheek.

“You’re really the devil?” You asked in disbelief and astonishment. “Well y’know,” He coughed looking away, pulling away from you effectively pulling out of you. “Yeah that’s what they call me.” Another charming smile graced his face.

Your lurched upward eyes wide. “I made a deal with the devil?!” You exclaimed not feeling the way you expected if you were to meet the devil. Y’know fear.

“Yep, and, you promised yourself to me,” Popping his ‘p’ as well as accentuating the ‘and’, he tossed the ring at you. Swiftly you caught it, and by the time you looked down at it, and then back up to him, he was redressed in his suit, coat and hat.

“Speaking of which, I’ve got a kingdom to run.” Thunder rumbled shaking the cabin making the lights flicker out ominously, and in that brief moment, the devil himself, disappeared. Leaving you alone, with his ring, naked in the cabin.

[worldlxvlys]

I HAVE A IDEA (MR CRABS I HAVE AN IDEA)

yk the new song ari came out with (we can't be friends) Chris fic were the reader and him are best friends that always flirt and they made out drunk at a party and have not been talking for a week untill Chris shows up at her house and they makeout and maybe some smut? Idrk

Anyways that's all 💋

we can’t be friends

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of drinking/being drunk, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), squirting, cursing

a/n: i’ve been absolutely OBSESSED with this song and itching to write about ittt

i hope you enjoy

i let out a heavy sigh at his last text, before throwing my phone onto my bed.

of course i wanted to fight for us, but this was about more than just our friendship . this was about what was best for us individually.

for as long as i could remember, i always put chris’ feelings before my own. i spent so long chasing after him, just to end up heartbroken.

i watched him constantly pick other people over me, blissfully unaware of how deeply he was wounding me.

but no matter how much i wanted to, i couldn’t blame him. it was easier to point fingers at him than to accept the fact that this was partially my own fault.

i let him continue to hurt me, over and over again, never telling him what he was doing to me. and if i didn’t tell him, how would he know any better ?

so, even though it killed me to act so cold and distant toward him, it was time to look out for myself for once.

i needed to take the time to love and take care of myself before expecting someone else to do so.

sure, he’d be upset for a short while, but once he got over me he would easily move on to the next girl. that’s all i was to him, after all. just another girl.

i was pulled from my thoughts when i heard my front door open and close suddenly, followed by quick footsteps toward my room.

i waited behind my bedroom door, quick to swing my arm out in front of me when the person made it to the doorway.

i was met with chris, who immediately caught my wrist in his hand.

we stared at each other with wide eyes, neither one of us speaking. i blinked up at him, watching his eyes trail down to my lips.

“don’t do that” the words flew out of my mouth before i could stop them.

his eyes immediately shot back up to mine, a curious expression taking over his features.

“don’t do what?” he asked, loosening his grip on my wrist to let it slide down, intertwining our fingers.

“chris, we aren’t doing this. i meant what i said earlier, we’re better off not being friends”

“you keep saying that, but you won’t tell me why. you gotta talk to me baby” he spoke.

“i don’t want to” i spoke back, shaking my head as i backed up slightly to create more distance between us.

“how am i supposed to know what i did wrong if you don’t talk to me?”

he was right, of course he was. it was unfair of me to just cut him off with no reasoning. but the second we start talking about it is the second it becomes real. i didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that i was trying to end one of the most important friendships i’d ever had in my life.

“you didn’t do anything, chris” i answered. he wasn’t having it. “no, tell me. i’m not letting you just end our friendship like this, not without a reason”

“i just can’t be friends with you”

“why? what is so wrong with me that you don’t want me in your life? and completely out of nowhere” he spoke, his voice rising slightly.

“see, that’s the problem. i don’t want you out of my life, i want you in it forever. but you clearly don’t want that, and it’s ok.”

“who the hell said i didn’t want that?” chris asked, his brows furrowing.

“chris, it’s fine. you don’t have to try to make me feel better-”

“so you don’t believe me?” he cut me off.

“i mean, i don’t know, i just…” my babbling trailed off as i tried to find the right words.

“let me prove it to you” he whispered as he toyed with the strap of my tank top.

my breathing grew shallow as he moved the fabric down my arm slightly, pressing his lips to my shoulder.

“chris….we shouldn’t” i whispered, but tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as his lips moved up my neck.

“really? you weren’t complaining a week ago” he spoke against my skin.

i slapped his chest lightly at that. “yeah, well we were also drunk”

he bit down on my neck, harshly enough to leave a bruise and elicit a moan from me. “so, you don’t want this?” he asked.

i let out a deep sigh, “of course i do, chris. but do you?”

he looked as though he was going to say something, but i stopped him “don’t tell me yes just because you want sex. i don’t want you to just want somebody, i want you to want me. if you’re just gonna fuck me and move onto the next girl, then forget it” i spoke.

the more i thought about it, the more i convinced myself that he didn’t really want me.

“hey” he spoke softly, cupping my jaw. “this isn’t about the sex, this isn’t even about me wanting you. this is about me needing you. this is about me not being able to live without you. yes, i’ve been with other girls. but there’s a reason that you’re the only one that’s always been there”

“i was so sure you didn’t feel the same, so i tried to move on. but i couldn’t, because none of those girls are you. and i’m so sorry that i hurt you, i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to”

chris looked at me as though he could cry. his blue eyes shot back and forth between my own, his thumb caressing my jaw gently.

“so make it up to me” i whispered, pulling his lips to my own.

one of his arms smoothly slid behind my back, supporting my weight as i found it hard to keep my balance.

he kissed me like he had waited his whole life for this moment. his lips felt so soft against mine, unlike our last kiss.

this kiss made our drunken one feel sloppy and desperate, like two people who were just horny, but this was more than that. it was eye-opening, sweet, gentle, it was everything i didn’t know i needed.

but chris did, he always knew what to say or do to make me happy. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if i wanted to.

“let me make you feel good?” he asked when we pulled away. “yeah” i let out breathlessly, nodding my head.

“lay down for me” he said, leaving another kiss to my neck. i did as he said, getting onto my bed and laying on my back.

he wasted no time in crawling over me, his hands placed on either side of my waist. “can i?” he asked, lightly tugging at the hem of my top.

i nodded at him, lifting my upper body up as he pulled off my top. without a word, he attached his lips to my nipple while caressing the other with his hand.

i let out a loud moan at the feeling, beginning to squirm underneath him.

“shit, chris” i sighed out, his eyes immediately looking up at mine.

he swirled his tongue around the hardened bud, watching as my body melted into his touch.

he sucked on my tit until the skin turned dark, moving to the other to give it the same treatment.

“god, chris. feels so good” i moaned out while he continued to work my sensitive nipple with his tongue.

“you look so pretty like this” he rasped as he soothed my boobs with his hands, “can’t believe i have you all to myself” he mumbled to himself.

he moved his face downwards, leaving gentle kisses to my rib cage and abdomen. he paid special attention to every birthmark and scar he found, pressing a kiss to each one.

his fingers rubbed small circles into my skin as he ventured further and further down my body.

he stopped at the waistband of my shorts, leaving a kiss to my crotch area. due to the thin material or the shorts and my lack of underwear, my hips shot up involuntarily at the feeling.

“no underwear? such a dirty fucking girl” he spoke, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

he licked a long stripe up my pussy through the shorts, eliciting a long whine from me. “chris, stop teasing me” i spoke as i squirmed under him.

“you just make it so easy, baby” he spoke, before continuing to leave kisses down my thighs and calves.

“lift up” he spoke as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. i raised my hips, allowing chris to pull them off.

i let out a sigh at the feeling of my heat being exposed to the cold air of the room.

chris stared down at my glistening pussy, mouth hung open slightly as he pulled my folds apart, spreading me open.

“my god, you’re so gorgeous” he spoke, blowing cool air onto my heat.

“hold your legs apart for me, beautiful” he spoke, his lips inches away from my core.

“so wet” he mumbled before running his tongue along my thighs, just missing where i needed him.

“chris, please. i need your mouth so fucking bad” i whined. “where, baby?” he asked, teasing me some more.

finally having enough, i wrapped my legs around his head, pulling his face into my heat.

he let out a long moan into me, his eyes rolling back as he licked up every drop of my slick.

my head fell back at the feeling, legs loosening around him to let him pull back if needed, however he stayed right where he was.

the words that fell out of my mouth sounded like gibberish, but i didn’t care about that. all i could focus on was chris.

the way he groaned into me, his needy tongue lapping me up like i was his last meal. his piercing eyes never left mine, only making the tight feeling in my stomach grow.

my arousal covered his flushed cheeks, making me even wetter.

there was something that i found so incredibly hot about how messily he was eating me out. it was like all he cared about was me finishing.

he moved his face from my legs, making me let out a whine at the loss of contact.

he stuck his tongue out, his spit dripping down onto my pussy.

“what do you think about when you touch yourself? ” he asked suddenly while he brought his finger down to my core to rub me.

“i- oh” i cried out in surprise at the feeling of his finger entering me.

“holy fuck, you’re so tight” he whispered as he pushed his pointer finger in and out of my tight walls.

“oh my god” i whimpered when he pushed another finger in.

“if you don’t answer me, i’m stopping” he spoke.

“this! i think about this!” i rushed out, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his rough fingers inside of me.

“i think about how perfect your hands are. fuck- how long your fingers are” i struggled out between moans, “i think about you” i finished.

“yeah? what about my cock?” he asked as his fingers sped up.

“you think about what it would feel like for me to fuck you into oblivion? ” he asked as he curled his fingers, hitting my g-spot.

“fuck, yes! i’m so close chris” i cried out as he continued to plunge his fingers in and out of me.

“c’mon, you got it. doing so well for me, want you to make a mess all over me” he rasped out, fingers moving rapidly inside of me.

“chris, wait! i’m gonna-” i tried to warn him, but i was too far gone as my juices shot out of me.

the liquid dripped down his face, onto the saturated sheets underneath us.

“yes, yes, fuck yes” chris groaned as his mouth hung open. i leaned up slightly, watching the way his hips stuttered and his body shook.

“fuck” he let out breathlessly, as he began to shudder.

“did you just come untouched?” i asked, eyes widening slightly.

“if that doesn’t prove how much i want you, nothing will”

wait why’d i kinda eat ??? 🤭

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[otomestatus]

Can you do a Matsuno Chifuyu request about the the reader aka his girlfriend being called by his last name? Like the other Toman boys love to call Chifuyu’s girlfriend by his last name to mess with them and their reactions changing over time etc (hope this made enough sense…)

a/n: i think this kinda isn't great, but i had fun taking my time writing it. :3c

excuse me, that's not my name !

"oi, matsuno!"

you turn around instinctively to the sound of your boyfriend's last name being called, but he was nowhere in sight when you did. raising a brow, your head tilted slightly to the left as you made eye contact with two of his toman friends. mitsuya and mikey were grinning from ear to ear from their table at a cafe.

"told you she'd respond to it!" mikey snickered. this only left you further confused. hesitantly, you stepped towards their table and rested a hand on your hip, head lulled to the side as you shot them a befuddled stare.

"well yeah. i thought chifuyu was around." you frowned while mikey leaned back in his chair with that smirk you knew too well. it spelled mischief. something nagged you to turn and walk away, but against your better judgement you stayed put.

"nah, his wifey is though." mitsuya laughed-- lighthearted and teasing-- when the realization hit you. his arm rested on the back of his chair as his own smirk spread across his face. your cheeks burned hot with an embarrassment you hadn't felt since your friends caught onto your crush.

you sigh, "you're both unbelievable... don't stay that in front of him, got it?"

that would save you quite a bit of embarrassment, but as soon as the words rolled off your tongue you knew you more than likely ended up instigating further teasing.

you were gonna kill them plain and simple. at least that's what you told yourself as you stood there, mortified and speechless. it wasn't just mitsuya and mikey anymore as the rest of the captains had gotten in on their little joke as well. the moment you arrived for the toman meeting as requested by chifuyu, smiley did not hesitate to call out to you with his signature grin.

"good to see ya, matsuno!" he waved to you from across the flood of toman members scattered about in front of their typical meeting spot. you whipped your head around in response, but this time it wasn't because you thought he was speaking to chifuyu. no, you had grown vigilant of their little joke, fearful they'd use it in front of other people just as smiley had.

emma, who stood beside you, also glanced towards the fourth division captain with a lukewarm glare, "they're children! i tried to stop mikey, but he never listens..."

you hadn't bothered to even wave back and chose to turn your attention back on emma, "they're getting ballsy. i don't know what i'm gonna do if they start doing it in front of him."

"doing what in front of me?" a voice spoke out behind you, causing you to jump and whip around to meet your boyfriends curious gaze. his head was cocked slightly to as side and he had his hands shoved into his pockets.

"oh, uh-" you stuttered, but you didn't even get a chance to finish your response. draken walked up to your trio with a smirk plastered on his stupid face. his incredibly stupid and idiotic face that definitely deserved to get punched especially because of what he said as soon as he stopped in front of you three.

"sup matsuno." he sent a quick salute your way.

"oh hey." chifuyu greeted him back, clueless.

"not you, i'm talkin' to your girl." the vice commander corrected. chifuyu stared at him for a moment as if not registering what he said at first.

"...but her last name isn't-" he began, then quickly shut his mouth. a reddish hue slowly crept onto his cheeks as he held draken's stare and realization sunk in slowly. the intent was hard to miss. especially as draken's smirk widened in mischief. he let out a laugh and pat chifuyu on the back before walking away to meet up with mikey.

"man, you two are too easy!"

this little "joke" of theirs had continued on for another week. honestly, it seemed as if there was no end to it. the only toman member who didn't participate in it was takemichi which were you very grateful towards him for that. he could laugh whenever he heard it, yes, but he stuck to calling you by your name. well, if it embarrasses you why would i say it? and when he said that it made you think. was it really something to be so embarrassed about?

you rest your cheek against the palm of your hand that was being supported by your elbow. chifuyu sat across from you staring menacingly at his study notes. you studied the way his blonde hair fell over his forehead and the length of his lashes as his eyes focused on the notebook in front of him. the memories of that day were painted so vibrantly in your mind while you could hardly remember just what you had done yesterday.

in a secluded spot behind the school with a white envelope in your trembling fingers, you could only focus on your shoes blow you. your face, red and burning, and chifuyu standing in front of you. you never gave yourself the opportunity to look him directly in his face as the anxiety had rose to overwhelming levels. how fast could you make it to the girls bathroom on the first floor? your lunch threatened to reveal itself. and his response after an agonizing silence caught you off guard the most.

yes, you remember it very well, very vividly. since that day you both had been inseparable. your love for him only continued to blossom. so should it really be embarrassing to be referred to by his last name? if fate would be so kind perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to imagine a forever with him.

"huh? you okay?" chifuyu's voice snapped you back to reality. your cheeks flushed with a gentle pink as you dropped your pencil on your notebook.

"y-yeah. just thinking." you murmur in response.

chifuyu smiles, "yeah, me too! hey, so what did you get for number three?"

it had become very natural to come with your boyfriend to his meetings even if you didn't go very often. it wasn't unusual by any means either. many other toman girlfriends also would show up and chat among each other. you were no different, but the hierarchy was clear even if it wasn't spoken. this meant your relationship with the vice-captain of the first division had some perks and drawbacks. boyfriends encouraged their girlfriends to mingle in an effort to build a reputation and possibly move through the ranks.

that's where you found yourself. not being surrounded really, but definitely being regarded quite frequently and this meeting was no different. toman members gathered in front of the musashi shrine and the girls flocked together to chat and catch up. you were deep in a conversation with emma when you heard someone call out to you.

"hey, takemitchy wants to get something to eat after the meeting. wanna come?" chifuyu strolled up, throwing his thumb back over his shoulder to point at takemichi who was engaged in conversation with draken.

"oh, sure." you lean slightly to the right to get a look at them before shooting a smile at your boyfriend.

"if it ain't the matsunos." hakkai calls out as he approaches the both of you.

"hakkai-!" chifuyu begins, but you cut him off with an unexpected response.

"oh, hey." you turn to face the taller boy fully.

hakkai appears dumbfounded for a second as this was clearly not the response he intended for. chifuyu was just as shocked. any irritation he felt had quickly melted away, but his cheeks remained pink.

chifuyu makes a face, "wha-?"

you turn your head slightly to meet his eyes, a wide smile spreading across your face, "what? you look confused!"

"yeah, well, you just- i mean- i thought you didn't like it when they called you that." he mumbled, his shoulders falling lax.

"mmm..." you put a finger to your chin in thought, "i guess i just don't see anything wrong with it anymore!"

chifuyu opens his mouth then shuts it. he's unable to conjure any words in response, but a grin breaks out on his face soon after. he chuckles, "oh, cool then."

you laugh at his response. hakkai stands there not sure what else to do but figure another roundabout way to tease you both. of course, you were far more focused on the elated expression your boyfriend wore after your interaction with him set in. yeah, it honestly wasn't so bad.

[evilminji]

You know what would be HILARIOUS?

For everyone NOT involved in the situation?

If the Uzumaki, mad lads that they were, seal master's who routinely moon the Shinigami for funsies that they are, got SUUUUUPER drunk? And were like?

"F-! *hic!* FUCK your fancy ass Summons contract Himiko! I got one TOO, you know. A..An' it's TOTALLY better then yours! It's got BLACKJACK! And hookers!" *falls on their face unconscious*

Needless to say? Not their proudest moment. Actually, their kinda deeply embarrassed. But like FUCK ARE THE BACKING DOWN! Their mouths wrote a check their ass can't currently cash... so the only REASONABLE solution? Apologize and tell the truth? Psh! NO.

Break Reality Until It's TRUE.

THEN they weren't technically lying!

They're a GENIUS~☆! :D

And yes, yes this IS normal behavior for them. It's both cultural AND genetic. There was a REASON people were terrified of those insane mother fuckers.

Because? They just? MADE UP a A Summons Contract. With Who? Dunno! We're gonna find out! But it looks right Seals wise! *signs name before anyone with sense can stop them, does the signs, draws blood aaaand?*

POOF!

Nani THE FUCK!? Says local dead Japanese 16th century fisherman who was flying by to visit the Lair of his buddy the 14th century monk. Behold! A FUCKING ZONE GHOST! He is unsummoned before he can react.

The Uzumaki have A Ghost Contract™.

.........th....they may have fucked up.

YOU THINK?

Roars basicly the ENTIRE Elders council. Who FUCKING FELT THAT. Because EVERYONE Felt that. They're SENSOR. That was a HOLE in REALITY that somehow GLOWED like a BEACON of both absolute Nothingness and Death! You TRAUMATIZED THE KIDS, YOU ASSHOLE!

Still....they ARE ninja. And Curious mother fuckers to the last.

So basically EVERYONE and their dog signs it. They somehow get WEIRDER. Bigger Chakra reserves. Obsessive tendencies. Meh, you win some, you lose some.

But? Then they fuckin DIE. (And their WHOLE ASS VILLAGE SHOWS UP IN THE ZONE. OH GOD, WHAT-!?)

And some grave robbing fuck tries to use the Contract. SUPRISE MOTHERFUCKER!

Ghost Uzumaki!

Your literal worst nightmare!

They DO NOT try using it again. It gets sealed DEEP. Until the Hokage gets wind of it. And, of course, Danzo. The Hokage sends Hound. And Team Kakashi on a completely unrelated but nearby "help a farmer" mission. Danzo sends assassins. Because he's fucking awful.

Kakashi gets the scroll.

Yep. Creepy rambling and shit handwriting, def Uzumaki. Time to go.

He gets attacked on the way back to camp. GDI Root. Well, its you or me. Sucks for you, I guess. They fight. They get a lucky shot. He bleeds on the scroll, doesn't notice. But SURELY... SURELY it isn't CROWDED enough with names that the Uzumaki just added a "and anyone who bleeds on THIS part at the bottom _______ plus does the handsigns" towards the end.... RIGHT??

RIGHT?! Look him in the EYES Uzumaki Clan, RIGHT??!

They would prefer not to answer that. The Vibez here are getting REALLY aggressive, you know? >.> It made sense at THE TIME...

So... he goes to summon his Dogs.

And he SURE DOES GET UM.... plus One(1!!!).

Who the FUCK is this glowing green dog? A puppy? Kakashi seeing the dimwitted looking little thing about to get STABBED tries to rescue it. It takes one look look at him (worried for it), the other dogs (growling at his enemies, fighting) and... turns around, shifting as it does, to HUNDREDS of times it's previous size.

Like an Akimichi transformation.

A sudden, hulking, green WOLF with red glowing eyes and killing intent that would Rival a demon's. The howl is unearthly. It joins the fray like a meat thresher.

Then pops back to a floating, tongue lolling, dimwitted pup the second everything is done.

G...God boy?

Far be it for KAKASHI to fear a dog, no MATTER how dangerous. So he carries it back to camp. Where it seems to instant fall in LOVE with Naruto. They become the BEST of friends.

There's frolicking.

Looking down at the pocket with the scroll he reclaimed? Yeah. Yeah that tracks. According to Pakkun, the pup has a "weird, echo-y" accent and is incredibly scatter brained. Training to be a gaurd dog? WAS Training. IS currently... what.

Okay. IS currently the gaurd dog/pet of an Emperor. Because THATS not alarming. Did the Royal family all... wait... he examines the pup again. Transparent. Was it KILLING intent he felt... or a Deathy pressure? Didn't the Uzumaki have Forbidden soul and death seals? It would stand to REASON...

Oh god damn it.

Pakkun. Pakkun please tell me that pup is ALIVE.

(He can not.) (Hilariously? Dispite being TERRIFIED of Ghosts? Naruto is TOTALLY COOL with Zone Ghosts? Don't be MEAN, Sensei! They're just PEOPLE! It's not THEIR fault They're dead! Now GHOSTS? Spooky and EVIL! Totally different.)

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay

[yantako]

Hello! Can i request yandere Malleus , Floyd and Kalim with an s/o who cant feel fear? (Its not that they are brave or anything its a real problem in their brain that they of course cannot fix)

Hi there! Thank you so much for the request!

I have definitely heard of this brain disorder before and honestly, it is really scary to think about it. Not sure if I'm doing it justice though, please forgive me if it doesn't sound like the condition! ><

Anyway, without further ado, let's begin!

Warning: Yandere and dubious elements.

Yandere with a S/O who can't feel fear

ft. Malleus, Floyd & Kalim

Malleus Draconia

• When you two first met, he was surprised that you smiled at him instead of being shocked or scared of him.

• However, because of such a reaction, he grows an interest in you for being so 'brave'.

• Everything would go well with his talks with you, getting to know you better and all, and slowly he started developing feelings for you.

• He'd always known you for being fearless about everything, even in the dangerous situations that you sometimes put yourself through from what he has heard from your stories.

• However, he started to feel curious about what your fearful face might look like and decided to play a small trick on you. Would maybe a giant dragon suffice in scaring you?

• When he saw your first reaction was lacking in fear, he'd try again with bigger and bigger moves. Malleus could feel his tiny smirk slowly distorting into a frown filled with worry and pain. It only became full-fledged anger at the point where it seems as if you didn't even care when the dragon was about to kill you [ of course, with you trapped with no room for escape ]. You didn't even seem remotely afraid as you tried to think of a way to combat this. However, when the situation is so bleak, you used your rational mind to think of the most painless way to go, and that is to tank the hardest hit in hopes of a one-shot KO.

• When you were about to be hit, Malleus immediately stopped the illusion and merely hugged you tightly. He had just wanted to see another side of you but ended up making himself feel like a disaster for putting you through that. He even had some thoughts if you would just give up your life so easily, why didn't you call him to help you?

• You felt pleasantly surprised that he was suddenly in front of you. Happy to see him, you gave him a smile, but also a knowing look when you realised what was going on just from his expression. It's about time you tell him about it.

• When he hears about your condition, his heart sunk.

• From then on, he has you kept by him the entire time. He had a mindset that if you can't feel fear, you won't know your dangers. It only made him more fearful for you.

• He becomes a lot more possessive over you and warier of the people around you, going so far as to cast spells on you without your knowledge.

• He becomes way more protective each time you get injured, on the basis that you cant feel fear even if you explained to him multiple times that you do know your dangers.

• He would do anything to keep you protected at all costs.

Floyd Leech

• Shrimpy! Aren't you scared of me?

• You just witness him punching a bloody student in a secluded area in school. Of course, you did stare for a while and wanted to leave as you presumed this to be troublesome and dangerous for you if you remained.

• However, this tall eel immediately noticed you and dropped the student he was holding. His eyes glinted as if he saw a brand-new toy being served up to him.

• He peered down at you threateningly after cornering you at a wall. However, even as he did that, you didn't show as big of a reaction as he wanted to see. Weren't you supposed to be squirming under him like a worm? Hey, why are you looking away when he's glaring at you!

• At first he thought it was very boring that you gave him such a lukewarm reaction, but when he figured that you were trying to find a way to escape calmly, his curiosity peaked again. He understood that normal people would be in a state of panic and give him their fullest attention in case he would hit them, however, he didn't feel any sense of fear from you but rather, a very cold way of ignoring him.

• With his interests piqued, he decided to let you go after attempting to scare you with his threats. He found it amazing that you showed no signs of fear in such a situation and decided to make his next days fun in school by harassing you.

• He continuously placed you in dangerous situations, even to the point of near-death situations, to simply observe and find entertainment. Well, that is until you actually got a near-death experience which scared the fuck outta him.

• Looking at your pale and weak figure lying in the infirmary, he thought about how much danger he had put you through. Regrets came washing over him. Initially, he thought it was fun and entertaining to watch your fearless gait. But now, he could hear alarms ringing in his head whenever he thinks you are in danger. In some magical and mysterious manner, somehow, he became smitten for you.

• Ever since then after you recovered, Floyd seemed to have a flipped his treatment of you. He would protect you fiercely from even the smallest threats, growling and even resorting to violence even at small teasings people do to you.

• He finally felt as if he had something he needed to do, something motivating him. He had to protect you even if he had to resort to violence and intimidation. He finally got a spark in his heart and he would do his all to protect this spark. Finally, something he could not get bored of. If you aren't scared by his actions, that means you allowed him to do so, right?

• Shrimpy ignited something in him, so you better accept it, okay?

Kalim Al Asim

• Hm? He doesn't understand it. What do you mean you can't feel fear?

• Even after explaining it to him, he still does not understand it.

• That is, until you were kidnapped because of him. When he found you all battered up but yet lighting up when you see him. He had questioned you all the essentials. Why didn't you scream? Why didn't you call for help? Why do you still look so... okay about this situation?

• You chuckled as you joke. "At least I wasn't killed or hit so badly."

• Kalim stared at you for awhile before getting reminded of what you had told him before.

• Ever since then, he decided to take your safety into his own hands, having bodyguards around you and even giving you your own aide so that you could be protected. He just wanted to keep you safe, so please allow this of him, alright?

• Privacy? Is that more important than your safety, darling?

[lazyrunawayphilosopher]

All the moments Joonghyuk has smiled in the novel

Since it's Yoo Joonghyuk's birthday I will post the moments Joonghyuk smiled in the novel. (I commented on reddit about it too tbh)

1.

I replied with a smile, "Release your hand and get lost, you damn son of a bitch."

Then the power holding me disappeared. I was grabbed by the force of gravity. I saw Yoo Joonghyuk's face as I was falling. Yoo Joonghyuk was smiling brightly like something made him happy.

Son of a bitch.

"I believe you. You are definitely a prophet."

2.

''How delicious can the food you make..." I said this but I quickly took a bite out of the dish Yoo Joonghyuk was making.

Then... No, what was this?

Lee Seolhwa, who was helping Yoo Joonghyuk nearby, smiled and asked me, "Is it delicious?"

"...Yes."

It was damn delicious. Really, it was delicious. No, it was the best dish I had ever eaten. What was this meat skewer?

One side of the expressionless Yoo Joonghyuk's mouth curved up. Damn. Even if he was a regressor, how could this bastard cook so well?

3.

Just like the 1863rd turn's Yoo Joonghyuk who killed himself to cross over to the new world- line, they were now stepping into a world that I didn't know.

Within the rays of light, I saw Yoo Joonghyuk's faint smile.

He looked... liberated.

[The constellation 'Secretive Plotter's' 'Oldest Dream'.]

4.

"Just how long were you out there in space?"

"Are you curious?"

A faint smile-like expression floated up on Yoo Joonghyuk's lips before vanishing completely. As that was a rather un-Yoo Joonghyuk-like behaviour, Han Sooyoung ended up frowning deeply.

''...You actually smiled?"

5.

[Constellation, 'Demon King of Salvation', is…]

"I didn't mean to say I'm unhappy."

Yoo Joonghyuk smiled faintly.

I dazedly stared at him for a moment there, having finally learned that he was capable of such a smile.

6.

"But I do" The corner of Yoo Joonghyuk's lips curled up as he lifted up his sword.

7.

Kim Dokja would die? Yoo Joonghyuk laughed. >"Kim Dokja is capable of resurrection. I thought I told you before but you must've not heard it."

8.

[ Demon King of Salvation. Do you think the story of your disappearance will be read quickly or slowly? ] I could hear a mischievous laugh coming from somewhere. The portal was fully activated and my field of view was completely blocked.

9.

However, Yoo Joonghyuk wasn't panicked at all. "It is Summoning the Dead? The Devil of Principles also used it." Yoo Joonghyuk was smiling. "That bastard's body is now hanging among the dead constellations."

10.

I reflexively looked at the 'Secretive Plotter'. I wanted to tell him that now would be a good time to run. Even if it was him, he'd not be able to escape from being sealed in that thing. However, why are you… smiling? [Constellation, 'Secretive Plotter', is looking at his own ■■.]

11.

Even before I could shout something out, Yoo Joonghyuk shot up from his spot and spoke. "I've made up my mind. I will…" As he formed a triumphant grin, his lips slowly parted.

12.

‘This is the end I wished to see.’ It could’ve been a slightly more excellent conclusion. If he had made a different choice back then, or maybe, if he chose to go down the better direction, then…. Yu Jung-Hyeok smiled bitterly.

Please tell me if I missed any.

Edit: 7 more added.

[dilfhos]

STRAY

#!WHO : SHIGARAKI TOMURA

#!CC: puppygirl!reader, thoughts of depravity, readers kinda naive, no thots just dick, there’s no expressive consent but reader’s kinda dumb and needy, use of “doggy” and “pup”. reader does actually bark (not them arf, yips! like a husky, heady bark.) MDNI.

+bringing back this banger from my old blog. you can also read it on my ao3. im nervous lol idk how its gonna hold up 2 years later, diff audience. i can’t remember the ask specifically but it was something like Shigaraki finding a stray and he ends up using her. omg and i want to tag @bakatenshii idk if you remember my old alias but i do remembered you loved this fic!

+NETWORK(S): @angelshub @bitchcraftinc (i keep forgetting to do this mL, excuse the random @/lovelies)

“Good girl,” Shigaraki whispers and he really means it, at least for now. It makes him think having a pet like you may not be all that bad…

Shigaraki still wonders how he ever let this be, an animal-woman hybrid living in his already cramped apartment. Doesn’t know why he hadn’t bothered to kick you out either. But it could be anybody’s guess as to why you still remain.

It all started when he got into an argument with his landlord, one that required him the self control to back off and avoid killing the bastard. It was rainy but Shigaraki paid no mind to the stinging raindrops that pelted his skin and soaked his clothes. It was dark out, but not too dark as to not notice you cowering against the side of his building upon his return. Your eyes were closed as you trembled in the cold rain.

Shigaraki didn’t know why he found himself moving closer to get a better look at you but when your eyes shot open, he found himself almost curious. He’d never seen anything like you before. Especially when your ears, you very doglike ears twitched forward, erect and alert. But you didn’t seem all that afraid. You were dressed in soaked shirt that was too big for you as it sagged off your body.

He crouched down and you inched toward him reluctantly and as you moved from your previous position, his eyes sought out the tail that had been tucked in between your legs.

“Hey, there you are,” Someone cooed from behind him. Shigaraki turned to eye the man. There was nothing all that remarkable about him; he wore all black, his hood over his head save for a few dark locks that stuck to his brows. Shigaraki wasn’t the least bit intimidated. But that couldn’t be said for you as you frantically dove into his arms, letting out a frightened whimper. Your ears flattened against your head as your hands curled into Shigaraki’s coat.

He wanted to back you off and leave from the situation as it had nothing to do with him and was fixing to do so when he looked down. Your pupils were blown and eyes glossy, pleading.

He sighed before standing, pulling you up with him to stand on trembling feet.

“She yours?” Shigaraki mumbled. You moved behind him, your hands tightening on his clothes.

“Heh, yeah, ran right out through the door. Isn’t that right baby?” You growled all while cowering behind Shigaraki’s form.

“No collar,” Shigaraki noted.

“Been meaning to get her one. C’mon baby, why don’t you leave the nice man alone and come back home with me?” He cooed.

The utter confidence and trust you had in Shigaraki at this moment was appalling. He barely covered the man in terms of height and upon first glance, he looked rather average. Definitely not the type to win in a fist fight. So why were you so dependent on him to save you?

Shigaraki didn’t have time to really think too much about it because the man advanced, silver glinting under the streetlamp. You yelped and cowered back against the wall again, covering your eyes.

You heard a grunt followed by a pained cry as that then died into the sound of pelting rain. When you lowered your shaky hands, Shigaraki was standing over a pile of what looked to be ash, the knife a few feet away.

Ever since that night, he couldn’t seem to shake you.

You’re loyal and to him, it’s annoying. Showing up at his doorsteps turns into you sleeping on his ratty couch. His chasing you away turns into grumbles of tolerance. The typical sneer he wears when you come sniffing around dissolved in hidden blushes and twitched lips as your distrustful cowering eventually turn into you becoming disturbingly comfortable around him.

After another day of pressing his key into the lock does he already see you on the other side of the door, tail whipping back and forth in excitement as you await his return. Except he isn’t really in the mood. Today was particularly bad and he wanted nothing more than to possibly let off steam, maybe watch something, blow his load and sleep.

“Stupid mutt, stop doing that!” He growls when his back immediately slams against the door, eyes narrowed in the way you smile up at him.

“Welcome home sir.” You beamed.

Another thing you picked up was calling him ‘sir’. Despite the many times he tells you not to. He wasn’t your last owner, and honestly, he’d like it if you didn’t call him anything. But every one of his complaints go through one ear and out the other with you having half the intelligence of an actual dog.

He recoils when he feels your tongue graze his neck. Groans when it doesn’t just end there. You’re licking his chin, his neck, and when your tongue laps over his lips, he’s trying to buck you off. But you’re so persistent as you press further against him, your front grinding up against his groin unknowingly.

Shigaraki bites back a moan at your ignorance, his cock already hardening from your aimless shifting.

You couldn’t feel the bulge pushing against your thigh? The soft grunts he’d release when you’d lap at the rough skin of his neck? You can’t be that stupid or then maybe you are.

But would it be that bad if you are? Because then he wouldn’t feel guilty when he dreams of stuffing you full with his cock. You practically ask for it every chance you get with him. The sleeping in his bed, your excessive show of affection, the sickening devotion in your eyes.

And then, isn’t it what he deserved? He did save you that night. Do you even remember how easy it could have been for him to just walk away? To give you up to that creep? Sure it only happened a few weeks ago but he thinks of that night as if it was only the last. How when he brought you home and went to retrieve a towel to dry you up, you were on your hands and knees practically presenting yourself to him as you slumped in exhaustion. As if giving him the go ahead to do what he wanted to and by gods, it took everything with him not to.

He wasn’t a hero, not by a long shot. And maybe you didn’t have the mental capacity to accept that he was actually a villain because in your eyes, he was your savior.

But as said, today was a particularly bad day and right now he felt anything but.

So just this once he’ll give in. Whether you wanted it or not didn’t matter to him at this point, already past contemplation. After all you’re his pet now, his property and if he can’t do this then what good are you really?

You release your little whimpers and when you look up, your eyes are wide, so full of confusion when he suddenly has you on your hands and knees pressing into you from behind on the floor. Your owner wears a new look, his eyes so feral, teeth gritted. And you know that look; it was the look of your last owner among all the other men that tried to take you on the streets. Hunger. Greed. Desperation.

And you should be wary, should cower away from the carnality in his eyes because you know better than anyone that when it’s present one thing is desired. Yet, you hold your ground. You don’t struggle, in fact he could just make out the way your hips shimmy back a little bit and the whine that surfaces from your throat.

You just can’t help it, the air around you has changed. A thick cloud of hot lust is weighing down around you and so much so, you can’t help but to submit. Besides you trust him one for reasons you can’t figure out.

Shigaraki refuses to meet your eyes, instead he quickly fumbles with his belt and takes out his hard cock. A blush spreads across his face when he eyes the steady slick trailing down your thighs and upon closer inspection he can see how swollen you were and that’s what does him in.

It’s what has him surging forward, bottoming out completely inside of you. Your ears flatten against your head as you let out the neediest sounding moan, one that has a shiver licking down his spine.

“Shit. Shit,” He should feel ashamed, taking advantage of you like this. But he clings on the fact that he’s a villain, that’s his justification. A villian with his pet, that’s all this is.

It’s fueling his newfound vigor as he speeds up, the heat of your tight cunny sucking him in with every cant of his hips.

His fingers dig into the plush of your hips as his own thrust forward, his cock forcing past your tight ring of muscle. You look back again, your eyes glossy with tears, long tongue hanging out as you whine and pant. He was so thick, so heavy within your tight, hot walls. Your nails scrape helplessly against the dingy carpet as he rocks into you with so much drive.

In the midst of your panting and whining surfaces his voice, so grating and filthy as he tumbles every degrading name in the book. It should worry him and yet it has his stomach knotting up, his thighs and glutes tightening as he holds on to your hips for dear life. And in the midst of that is the loud, wet, shlicks of each sink into you.

“My needy little bitch. Taking my cock like a good doggy,” He grits, eyeing the recoil of your ass against his hips.

His hand seeks out the base of your tail as he uses it as leverage to pull you back onto his cock. And it hurts, it has the tears spilling over and yet, your cunt only tightens around him some more.

“F-Feels good sir!” You cry out at about the same time as he mumbles,

“Good doggy, such a good pup,” And at his praise, your ears bend forward, and your tail begins to switch slowly in his gasp. You feel a knot in your tummy, desperately winding down to what you’re chasing. It has you rocking back against him needy to have, so so needy. And the way your resolve has melted away, it makes all his thoughts of guilt completely vanish, leaving him with an unbearable need to fill you up.

He’s quickly pulling out and flipping you onto your back, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he spreads you wide.

You were so wet, inhumanly so as it’s gushing down onto the carpet and the sight alone has him nearly cumming right then and there but he holds it. At least until he’s thrusting into you again, your head thrown back as you let out a broken whine. Your tits bounce with all the force he’s using as he’s putting everything into these last moments. His one track kind only focuses in the tuft of fur above your cunny, at the way your puffy lips pull part each time he's pushing forward and the slick coating his cock.

You’re yelping with each kiss he delivers to your cervix, hands desperate to hold onto to your new owner. You reach out and he grasps your wrists, using you to thrust impossibly deeper into you. Static fills his mind as his eyes roll back, his hips slamming against yours, balls smacking your ass each time.

“Fuck, fuck cumming!”

“Sir! Sir please-” You cut your own self off with a heady bark, one that startles him. It’s also what has him groaning as he twitches, his seed spilling so suddenly into you. Your pussy milks him as you gush around his dick and it has him falling over, elbows pressed into the carpet on either side of your head. Your legs wrap around his waist as your hips shimmy up against him, whining as you push past your own limits, twitching every so slightly at the overstimulation and sealing this moment of what would be the best one in your simple little head.

“Good girl,” Shigaraki whispers and he really means it, at least for now. It makes him think having a pet like you may not be all that bad.

He also thinks he should probably name you.

dilfos. do not plagiarize any parts of my content— current or archival. all rights reserved.

[suzdin]

Belly of the Beast: Part I

Dark!Dave York x F!reader

Warnings: it’s Dave, so…buckle up! No use of y/n. Homicide with a gun, reader is shot and grievously wounded and dying, graphic descriptions of murder and gore, use of medical equipment/terminology, amateur triage and medical care, Dave is a voyeuristic creep, Stockholm syndrome?, physical restraints, partial nudity, divergence from EQ2 plot and major character deaths mentioned. No mention of wife or kids. No smut this time! (Shocking, I know.) Dark themes obviously, I mean, Dave DOES kill for money, after all.

Summary: You’ve been Dave’s housekeeper for two years. When you arrive for your morning shift, the last thing you expect to see is Dave standing over a body.

This was going to be a one shot but I decided it worked better as a two parter. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4,700

Taglist: tagging the people I know for sure want to be tagged. If you want to be tagged for part II, lmk!

@ohheypedrito @kateispunk @survivingandenduring @kellybelly1978 @awilderi @oberynslady @natdeandar @daddy-dins-girl @heavennumber2 @guelyury

—

The sky is still dark, a faint slice of jagged light cast across a slate colored horizon, when you arrive for the day at Dave York’s home.

You notice his car parked in the driveway as you pull in, checking your messages to make sure you hadn’t missed anything from him, finding nothing. You frown.

Normally, he would tell you when he would be home if he knew you were also going to be there that day. He simply must have forgotten to mention it this time. It wasn’t a big deal; you could just work around him like you always did.

He was gone for work more often than not. What that entails, you aren’t entirely sure of; all you knew was that he worked in D.C. Something bureaucratic, most likely.

What was even more curious than his unannounced presence, however, was a second vehicle parked behind his.

You pull up next to aforementioned vehicle and get out, gathering your bucket of cleaning supplies from the backseat. Dave provided most of what was used, but there were a few items you preferred for various reasons, with his approval, of course. You had been his housekeeper for the last two years, servicing his home bi-weekly, and he paid you well, plus tips. You had few complaints.

Although the home was large and stately, he lived alone as far as you knew. You couldn’t recall seeing anyone there before now.

As you walk along the edge of the driveway to the side door, you note the pale illumination filtering out through the kitchen window onto the concrete, which makes sense considering the time of day. He’s most likely just sitting down to have his coffee and breakfast. You hope you don’t startle him too much.

The sun is ascending rapidly, already burning brighter in the short walk from your car to the door, providing you with enough light to get your key out.

You unlock the side door, which steps directly into a small utility and mud room. The interior door to the kitchen is drawn shut, which wasn’t unusual, but an unfamiliar noise registers as you enter, immediately followed by what sounds like chair legs scraping along the tiled floor, and Dave’s voice saying what sounds like a name. Mac? Is that what you heard?

Your mind fumbles over the original sound, knowing it’s familiar, but that you can’t quite place it, trying to trace its source. You can best describe it as a muted pop, loud enough to notice but not so loud as to sound any alarm bells. Or so you think.

You smell the strong waft of coffee and eggs cooking as you enter. And something else.

The scene that is laid out before you as you push open the kitchen door is the last thing you would ever expect or want to find, and the realization of what the unidentified sound was hits you like a freight train.

What you discover is Dave standing above a body, pistol clutched tightly in his right hand, knuckles turning alabaster, with what you’re certain is a silencer screwed to the end of the barrel.

The body sprawled across the floor belongs to a man you don’t recognize, a pool of fresh blood spreading rapidly from a single gunshot wound to the front of the skull, bone and brain matter studding the kitchen island and wall, the stink of crimson iron filling the air.

Dave’s head snaps up when he hears you enter, his face gone pale, but otherwise completely blank and devoid of emotion.

Your eyes lock.

You think you say his name. You aren’t sure, and the only reason you know you’ve said anything at all is because you feel the muscles in your esophagus stretching and vibrating, your heart thundering inside your rib cage.

You’re smart enough to deduce that this isn’t some home invasion gone awry. The unknown car in the driveway and the trained, emotionless nature at which Dave currently presents himself is testament to that.

The only option left is that Dave killed a man. And now he has his sights trained on none other than you.

You drop the bucket of supplies, the hollow sound of plastic hitting ceramic reverberating in your skull as you turn, your brain screaming at you to run, run.

In hindsight, running was a bad idea. But panic doesn’t always create rationale.

You feel your legs pumping, your lungs sucking in air. You want to scream for help but when you attempt it, the only sound that comes out is a small, strangled croak of terror. You feel like a damsel in distress in every horror movie you’ve ever seen, almost as if you aren’t actually moving at all, like you’re just running in place while the villain slowly catches up to you.

If you could just reach the neighbor’s house. If you could just… reach…

You manage to make it to the driveway, but you’re barely a few steps onto the concrete when that same muted pop registers again, and you instantly feel a sharp, burning, agonizing sting that rips right through you like a hot knife through butter, knocking you ass over teakettle just paces from Dave’s car, your face slamming hard against the ground.

You look down to see the spreading circle of blood on your shirt against your lower abdomen, a geyser of red bubbling up from the wound. And Dave is on you in an instant, hovering above you, gun trained right at your head.

You know you’re a goner. Abdominal gunshots are frequently fatal, at least according to the kind of shows you like to watch. And at the rate you’re seeing your blood spill out, you know it’s anything but good.

Before you fully comprehend what is happening, your vision already waning, you’re pleading for Dave to end your life as quickly as possible, ‘please, please Mr. York, I’ve been good to you. Please do it fast’, you choke out.

But Dave doesn’t kill you. His dark eyes bore into you, through you, and he hesitates. He’s watching you die and beg for him to put you down and yet he can’t bring himself to actually do it, regardless of how many names he’s scratched out of his ledger without remorse. Maybe because you’re just an innocent, wrong place wrong time, but he can’t seem to do it.

“Please, don’t let me suffer,” you sob as you lift a single, quaking hand that is slicked deep burgundy, and still he doesn’t put you down, only lowering the gun to his side, and you can’t help but wonder what you did to deserve to suffer slowly like this.

Finally, some sense of self preservation washes over you, and even as you’re dying, in your final throes of desperation, you start ripping and clawing at your shirt, managing to somehow tear a sizable chunk out of it, in order to make some kind of makeshift tourniquet that could potentially save your life.

Your hands shake and slip, blood pressure dropping rapidly, and your vision wanes more, the edges of the lightening sky fading and blotting away. You suddenly feel very cold and you can feel your heartbeat gradually ebbing to a slow, dull throb.

The last thing you see before your vision goes completely dark is Dave crouching over you, his face screwed up in regret.

——

God damn it.

When Dave had found out only days before that McCall was still alive, and that his old compatriot had sniffed out the details shrouding Susan’s death, Dave had lost all sight of anything else, completely forgetting you were scheduled to clean his house that day.

Had he realized, he would have canceled. It would have made things far less complicated.

But God fucking damn it. He didn’t want to kill you, his militaristic training and instincts piloting his actions when you fled instead of surrendering, intending to put a round in your skull but changing his mind at the last possible fraction of a second so that he totally FUBAR’d the shot and hit your abdomen instead. A gut shot wasn’t much better. In fact, it was worse. Way worse.

You’re still breathing when he finishes applying the crude tourniquet that you had started, which didn’t completely stop the bleeding but slowed it enough to make a difference. That way, he could get you down into the basement where he could apply proper triage.

His medical training was rudimentary and archaic at best, but it was better than nothing. And it was his best chance at keeping you alive.

Your blood soaks through the light blue dress shirt Dave is wearing as he carries you through the house draped in his arms, the one you once told him looked nice on him. He takes you into the basement and places you on his work table — which isn’t sterile — noting no exit wound as he sets you down, which can be good or bad, all things depending.

Thankfully, he locates the bullet readily enough, fishing it out with a narrow pair of forceps, discarding it into a medical pan as he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees the bullet didn’t strike anything crucial, an incredibly lucky feat.

He grabs a skin stapler to close up the wound; a messy and rushed method of closure that would leave behind a pretty significant scar, but he didn’t have the luxury of time to close the wound properly with a needle, especially considering the rate at which his hands were already shaking.

He takes in a deep breath when he finishes stapling you back together and leans over you, examining your face and body visually, his mind racing as to what he should do now. You still had a pulse. You were breathing. But you had lost a lot of blood, and your prognosis wasn’t good.

Frowning, the crease deepening between his brows, he cleans and sterilizes the wound, wrapping you up in proper dressing, which he hopes is enough to stave off any infection. He can’t risk taking you to a hospital. Especially when there’s still a dead man to deal with only a floor above.

The good news is that he knew no one would come looking for McCall, the majority believing him to already be dead, so disposal would thankfully be swift and painless. You, on the other hand, he was unsure of. He knew your parents had passed and you didn’t have siblings, but he didn’t know if there was a boyfriend or girlfriend in your life, or friends who would notice your absence.

His mind reels with every possibility. Dave isn’t a man who enjoys loose ends. Loose ends make his ass itch.

Your shirt is shredded and bloody, so he removes the remainder of it, leaving you in a soft black cotton bra. He doesn’t let his eyes wander, although, at the back of his mind, he realizes he has always found you attractive. Just as quickly as it dawns on him, he shakes the thought from his mind; it is neither the time nor place for such endeavors.

He removes your shoes but not your socks, knowing you would be cold from having lost so much blood. He might actually put one of his pairs over your own, for good measure.

After a long beat of silent contemplation, Dave scoops you up into his arms once more.

——

You wake up from a fitful sleep some hours later, in a bed you’ve never slept in before. The room around you is dark, shades drawn, a faint light flooding in from beneath a closed door.

When you attempt to sit up, pain lances through your torso and you cry out, your back hitting the mattress. You immediately realize, much to your horror, that you’re also handcuffed to a bedpost. Even if you could move without effort, you aren’t exactly going anywhere.

Your memory suddenly comes flooding back in a tidal wave of images, recalling all of the events that lead up to this point; the body on the kitchen floor, the gunshot, Dave staring down at you with a pistol in his hand.

But you aren’t in a hospital and this isn’t a hospital bed. You’re in Dave’s bedroom. In Dave’s bed.

The door clicks open and a familiar silhouette steps into the room, regarding you in steely silence. You recognize the broad shoulders right away, the thick arms, the short cropped hair.

Your pulse quickens, your body and mind telling you to flee again, even though you know you can’t, causing you to flinch with a choked whimper when he takes a step toward you.

“I wouldn’t move, sweetheart. You lost a lot of blood,” Dave explains, his voice low and soft to your ears as he approaches the bed.

Your body is trembling hard. So hard that it makes the entire bed vibrate.

He’s no longer wearing the blue shirt or black slacks from before, now dressed in a slate gray t-shirt and Adidas sweats. His dark eyes study you as he sits next to you on the edge of the bed. If you weren’t so weak, you think you would strike him.

He lifts the back of his hand to your cheek and you flinch again.

“Shh,” he tuts, “I’m not going to harm you.”

His hand presses to the soft round of your cheek, your forehead, checking for fever.

“Y-you— you s-shot me—?“ you croak.

“I reacted poorly,” Dave agrees with a small nod, his lips parted softly, “but you also shouldn’t have run.”

“You k-killed… that man…”

“I did, indeed.” His eyes grow a shade darker, his brow knitting together, lending him a sinister appearance. “But that man was threatening me. That man was going to kill me…” Dave explains, an edge of malice and contempt to his voice. “I was left with few options.”

You stare back, unblinkingly, trying to decide what to say next, if anything.

“My family will come looking for me,” is what you settle on, a wash of bravery suddenly welling up within you.

To that, Dave smirks, eyes remaining dark, hand lowering to the bed by your hip.

“What family?” Dave asks, smirk slanting even more, his tone semi-mocking. “Do you really think I would hire someone to come into my home without doing a full investigation on them?”

Your jaw drops open, hanging slack in the air, as it dawns on you that a trained killer has been right under your nose this entire time. You would scream if you had the lung capacity to do so.

You should have seen the patterns. Noticed the signs. The constant travel, the lack of personal touches to his home, the pinpricks of blood you occasionally found on his clothes that you excused for other things. That one room in the basement he forbade you from entering.

But you hadn’t, causing you to nearly pay with your life.

Truth is, Dave had picked you for good reason, and it wasn’t just because of the exemplary reviews. You were naive and trusting, you had no family, no criminal record, you didn’t work for an agency; you worked solo. Your work ethic and reliability were just cherries on top.

You look down to notice the IV needle in your hand, and you lift it in examination, your hand shaking and sputtering weakly. No… no, you really had no clue who this guy was at all.

Dave watches you for a beat before he gently grasps your hand and places it back down on the bed, regarding you with uncharacteristic softness and empathy.

You feel your consciousness starting to drift then as Dave pulls the covers back to check the dressings, finding they’re still intact and that the wound hasn’t reopened from what he can tell. He’ll clean and redress everything in the morning. For now, you need rest.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells you, stepping out of the room for what feels like only a meager blip of time to you, but when you open your eyes again, he’s hovering above you once more with a thermometer and an ice pack.

“Open up,” he instructs, and you do so obediently.

“Good girl,” Dave praises as he checks your temperature, and you close your eyes.

When the thermometer beeps, which feels like an eternity later, he frowns, exhaling a long sigh. “101.5. Here,” he says, leaning to the side where he opens a drawer on the night stand, a bottle of aspirin rattling somewhere next to your head. The sound is grating, making your head throb, and suddenly the lamp seems too bright.

He feeds you some pills and gives you a drink of water from a nearby tumbler, which you guess was also on the nightstand, but aren’t too sure.

He pulls the blanket back up all the way to your chin and places the ice pack on your forehead, staring down at you. Although Dave was the reason you were even here at all, he is treating you with a surprising amount of tenderness.

“You need to eat,” he says after a moment. “Dinner is almost ready.”

——

You must pass out again, because when your eyes reopen, Dave stands next to you with a small tray table filled with food.

“Chicken and dumplings,” he explains. “It will keep the cold away.”

You nod your head weakly as he places the tray over you. When you reach for the spoon, he stops you, blocking your hand with his own.

“Let me,” he says, picking up the spoon. “I don’t want you moving anymore than necessary.”

You have to keep reminding yourself that he’s the one who shot you. He’s why you’re in this mess in the first place. Why you’re here, injured, with a hole in your abdomen, chained to his bed.

The way he’s acting shouldn’t be trusted.

You try to resist, but he grabs your jaw with the other hand and forces it to pop open, pressing the spoon past your lips as he ladles the soup into your mouth, much to your displeasure.

“Eat,” he says softly, but sternly, his features darkening in regard.

The food is warm, as promised, and delicious. You aren’t sure of the last time you ate, not knowing what time or even what day it is, but you soon realize you’re starving. Because of this, the second spoonful is not met with as much resistance as the first, your mouth hinging open in resignation and acquiescence.

Dave’s eyes zero in on your soft lips. The way they twitch ever so slightly as they divide. The way your tongue looks so velvet and inviting…

He feeds you slowly, thoughtfully, watching your every move, his own lips parted in concentration as you take in the much needed sustenance.

By the end of it, you’ve managed to polish off about half the bowl. Seemingly satisfied with that, he makes you drink some Gatorade.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask weakly as soon as you swallow down a couple gulps of the blue liquid, your consciousness ebbing and flowing by the second. Dave looks at your face, but he doesn’t give you an answer. He doesn’t have one to give.

Part of him wishes he did.

“I have to pee,” you tell him suddenly when you notice the familiar stab of discomfort in your lower region. A realization that sends a jolt of anxiety rushing through you, your pulse racing when you watch his face fall. He hadn’t even thought of that…

His skills and equipment were limited to wound care, so of course he hadn’t put a catheter in. He wouldn’t know how even if he did happen to have one.

He deliberates on what to do. He didn’t have a bed pan. But, he was sure he could find something comparable to use.

Or he could help you to the bathroom. He has an en suite, it was literally only steps around the bed. But the space was tight. It would take some maneuvering. And he would have to be close to you the entire time. Not to mention uncuffing you from the bed.

In the end, that’s what he settles on.

“Let me help you to the bathroom, sweetheart,” he says to you, pulling the blankets back, and you are cold. So cold. Your flesh pebbling with the lick of cool air against your skin.

He unlocks the handcuffs and you massage your sore wrist and shoulder the moment you have full motion of your arm again.

“Slowly,” he instructs, his voice low and even. “Grab the IV stand.”

You do as you’re told, gripping the cool steel in your hand as you grasp his forearm with the other while he gingerly manipulates you into a sitting position. You cry out at the sudden dagger of pain that slices through your lower gut, and he does his best to steady you against him.

He did this to you, you keep reminding yourself. He did this to you.

He lifts you carefully, slowly, and you groan at the swell of pain when he places you on your feet.

“Easy, easy…” he murmurs, one arm circling your waist to keep you upright. You flinch at the contact.

You make it to the bathroom easily enough, light flooding the small room as Dave flips the switch. A bathroom you’ve cleaned countless times. There was rarely much to clean in here, save for the occasional whisker in the sink, or some light trash in the bin.

Dave was neat and fastidious, and not frequently home. You often wondered why he needed someone to clean his house in the first place.

The space looks no different than usual, but right now it feels… different. You shouldn’t be here.

He guides you to the toilet, and when you get there, you stare down at it, pondering to yourself how this is going to work.

He seems hesitant to leave your side.

“Go ahead,” he tells you softly, “I won’t look.”

You freeze. The last thing you want is to expose your body to him when he already has several advantages on you. But your bladder is screaming at you to go, especially now given your proximity to the porcelain bowl, and you can barely stand on your own, your arms and legs wobbling.

You watch as he turns his back, placing himself between you and the exit. You bend just slightly to tug your bottoms down, but it’s too much, more pain coursing through your body. You yelp, unable to even budge the fabric.

“Hey,” Dave says, turning back to face you, “Let me help you.”

“No, I—I got it,” you protest, your arms shaking, attempting it again, only to end up with the same result. “Fuck—“

“Hey,” Dave says a second time, more sternly than before, as he moves in to your space. “Let me help. I promise I won’t touch you.”

You tremble. You’re cold, you’re frightened, you’re weak. So weak. You’re in your bra, partially exposed to him already. Yet, you concede with a nod anyway. You’ll piss yourself if you don’t.

He mirrors your nod in silent confirmation and moves closer, crowding into your intimate space, his fingers finding the waistband of your leggings and underwear. He slides them down your hips and legs in unison, all the way to your knees. As promised, he doesn’t touch you more than he needs to.

But he has to look. He needs to see where his hands are in relation to your body in order to keep himself from accidentally breaking his promise of touching you in a way you didn’t consent to, and another part of him just can’t help it, either. He is a man, after all, and he wasn’t currently seeing anyone. Romance wasn’t exactly optimal for someone in his position, his attention honed in on his work above all else.

When the nights were long and lonely enough, he would, on occasion, share his bed with a sex worker, but aforementioned nights were few and far between. He enjoyed his job. He got off on it. Romance was often placed on the back burner.

But there’s just something about you. Especially now, with how vulnerable you are, that he finds irresistible.

His gaze only lingers on your bared skin for a moment, big brown puppy dog eyes roving over your soft curves, holding on to you as he lowers you down to the commode. And, god, you’re just as beautiful as he imagined, his skin heating at the sight of your soft folds.

“Call for me when you’re done,” he grates quietly as he takes a step out of the bathroom, blood rushing to certain parts of his body, shutting the door to give you a modicum of privacy, which you’re more than grateful for.

His eyes on you had not gone unnoticed. You weren’t stupid and you weren’t seeing anyone either, currently; his attention, regardless of how brief, had made your skin heat and your core pulse with need. You clear your throat and try to discard the thought.

Dave is why you are here. Dave is dangerous. So dangerous he can’t even take you to a hospital to get proper medical attention. Stop it.

It feels like you pee for ages. You aren’t totally convinced you’re awake for most of it. Eventually, you finish, even managing to wipe yourself, in spite of things, which you’re relieved for. You wouldn’t want him to do it for you; that would be humiliating and degrading.

You call for Dave when you’re done and he returns in an instant, hoisting you to your feet as he pulls your pants and underwear back up and over your hips, trying not to think about your soft cunt. You can see how hard he’s trying not to look at you.

“Good?” he asks. You nod.

Bracing yourself against him, he helps you back to the comfort of the bed. It smells like him, despite how little he’s actually in it. You hiss through your teeth as he manipulates you into position, adjusting the pillows and covers until you’re as comfortable as possible.

You’re cold. Freezing, in fact, despite it being the swell of summer.

“I’m c-cold,” you lament to Dave, crossing your arms over your chest beneath the blanket.

Dave’s lips pinch to the side in thought. “Hold on.”

He returns a moment later with an extra blanket, tossing it over you, tucking the edges neatly around your form, taking extra care to be gentle, noteably around your abdomen.

As you watch him, his face and eyes soft, his hair mussed and unkempt, you ask yourself once again why he’s doing all of this for you.

Guilt? Shame? Something else?

You don’t have much time to ruminate on it for too long before your consciousness peters away once more.

——

Dave sighs as he watches you slip back into listlessness. You’re doing better than he anticipated, but you aren’t out of the woods yet. He knows how much blood you had lost; he’d spent hours cleaning it. Not to mention McCall, the remains of which he had delivered to an acquaintance who works at the industrial incinerator on the outskirts of town, after tending to you.

He loops your hand back through the cuff on the bedpost and peers down at you. You’re so beautiful; he hopes you make it. He wishes you hadn’t run from him. God, why did you run? He doesn’t want you to meet the same fate as McCall. He doesn’t want to know what your incinerated body smells like.

Every body has a different smell, in his experience.

He gives you another dose of morphine to reduce any pain you may be feeling and to keep you knocked out for a few more hours, checking for fever again, which is currently holding steady. It was good that it wasn’t going up. Any higher and you could potentially be in trouble. He’ll keep checking throughout the night to be on the safe side.

He sighs, knowing he’ll have to stay in town for weeks, which he detested doing. He hated staying in one place for longer than required. But he didn’t have much of a choice at this point.

He turns off the light and shuts the door behind him as he leaves you to rest.

Part II coming soon!

[xuchiya]

"stuck in this fairy tale" || choi san || series || fourth part

| genre: prince! san. fluff. angst. adventure | mentions: cursing. | here's the first part

back to masterlist | chapter 5

San had brought you to the castle, and now you found yourself in the heart of a grand but intimidating court meeting. The room was vast, lined with towering columns and tapestries that told ancient stories of kings and battles long past. A massive, polished oak table dominated the center, and it was crowded with ministers, advisers, and other court officials. Their eyes were all trained on you—some curious, some wary, and a few downright hostile. You were at the far end of the table, while the ministers gathered closer to the prince, who sat silently, observing.

The air was thick with tension. The murmurs of conversation had grown louder, with officials firing questions and accusations at you from all sides.

"Who is she?" 

"Could she be a spy?" 

"A witch, maybe. Look at her clothes."

They were relentless, making you roll your eyes. One voice, louder than the others, called out, "She’s a threat to the prince’s life!" That was enough to push you over the edge.

You rose sharply from your seat, the chair scraping against the marble floor with a grating sound. The room fell into a brief hush as everyone turned to look at you. Fury flared in your chest as you slammed your hands on the table, your voice rising above the din.

“I just saved your prince’s ass from being killed by some decrepit, floating fart-figure—and you’re calling me a threat?! You should be thanking me instead of throwing baseless accusations!”

The court erupted into a fresh wave of whispers, and one of the advisers, a stout man with thinning hair and a pompous air about him, sneered at you from across the table. “You could be trying to build a facade, manipulate us into trusting you.”

Your eyes narrowed as you shot him a cold glare. You tilted your chin up in arrogance, your patience snapping. “Yah!” you yelled, your voice reverberating in the large room. The echo hung in the air as everyone froze. “You dumbass idiot! If I wanted to manipulate you or harm any of you, I could kill you right here and now!”

The entire court fell silent. The ministers who had been so quick to accuse you now looked at you with wide eyes, some of them visibly trembling. The sound of their fear was palpable, their breathing uneven as they exchanged uncertain glances. You stood tall, hands firmly planted on your hips, refusing to let their judgement weaken you.

Your eyes swept over the room, and your voice dropped to a dangerous low. “I don’t know what this is all about, but if I were a real threat, I would have the prince’s head on a silver platter by now—with the powers I have.”

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of San. He hadn’t said much during the meeting, standing by quietly, observing the chaos. But now, a flicker of admiration danced across his face. He was impressed—though he tried to hide it, his slight smile was noticeable enough to you.

Raising an eyebrow at him, you asked, "Not gonna say anything?"

San opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, another adviser’s voice cut through the tension, this one full of venom. “Show some respect, you wench!”

Without thinking, you rolled your wrist slightly, and a ball of fire appeared in the palm of your hand, glowing and crackling with energy. You didn’t even turn your head to acknowledge the speaker, but you felt their fear radiating through the room. Your eyes focused on San, who watched you with a calm expression, but you knew everyone else was watching the fireball.

The coward who had insulted you let out a small gasp and whimper in their seat, and you smiled, your lips curling upward in a quiet victory. With a sharp motion, you crushed the fireball in your hand, the flame disappearing as quickly as it had formed. “In this moment,” you said coolly, “I’ll show some respect. But remember this—respect is not something given only to those above. It is something everyone deserves.”

The ministers looked at one another, unsure how to respond. The prince, who had remained silent throughout the ordeal, finally spoke up. "That’s enough for today," he said, his tone firm but measured. “We will revisit this tomorrow.”

With that, the court adjourned, and the once-bustling room emptied out quickly, the officials too eager to leave your presence. You sighed in frustration as the adrenaline slowly faded from your system. You had saved their prince, and yet, they treated you like a criminal.

That evening, after the chaos of the meeting, you were shown to your own room in the castle. It was elegant, grand even, with tall windows that overlooked the sprawling gardens below. The furniture was Victorian in style—rich mahogany bedposts and velvet cushions—but it only made you feel more out of place. You glanced down at your own clothes, a pair of ripped jeans, a hoodie, and your high-top Converse, which looked ridiculous in comparison to the flowing gowns and embroidered tunics the castle’s residents wore. 

From your balcony, you gazed out at the unfamiliar world. A sunset painted the sky in soft hues of orange and purple, but your thoughts were far from serene. Your mind drifted back to your own timeline—was time frozen there? Had people even noticed you were gone? Your friends? Your family? 

“Aww~ eomma.” Your heart clenched painfully at the thought of your mom. She had always needed assistance, especially after the weakness in her spine made simple tasks difficult. You worried about her more than anything else. What if she had fallen sick? Who would take care of her in your absence? The uncertainty gnawed at you, but without answers, you knew you couldn’t afford to dwell on it, not even you could solve anything with just minimal evidence.

 With a sigh, you turned back into the room, exhausted and ready to sleep. But as soon as you moved toward the bed, you froze.

A figure stood in the shadows by your door. You opened your mouth to scream, but before you could make a sound, a hand clamped over your lips. Panic surged through you until you recognized the familiar face before you.

“Wooyoung?!” you mumbled against his hand.

He nodded, removing his hand slowly, his finger pressed to his lips to signal for silence. The relief hit you like a wave, and before you knew it, your arms were wrapped around him. He hugged you back just as tightly, his breath warm against your hair. Staying in the same position as you don’t want to pull away as you fear that this instance of comfort will disappear from you.

“I was scared, Woo,” you whispered, your voice trembling, the courageous and loud lady a while ago vanishing as you shook in his arms. Wooyoung sighs, his breath also shaky as he feels the guilt gnawing at him. “I didn’t know what was happening. I was so—”

“I know,” he interrupted softly, pulling back to look at you. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”

You frowned, noticing the tension in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Wooyoung sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He motioned for you to sit, and you both moved to the bed. Sitting side by side, finally noticing, you took in the details of his clothing—the same style as San’s, noble, regal even. It clicked in your mind.

“You’re a prince too?” you asked, though it felt more like a statement.

He nodded. “Yes, but that’s not important right now. We need to talk.”

Your frown deepened as Wooyoung leaned closer, his tone growing serious. “You need to help San break his curse. You’re the key to ending this.”

You blinked in disbelief, shaking your head. “Wait, wait. Hold on. I’m here to help San? I’m supposed to be the one to turn this whole nightmare into a fairytale ending? What do you think I am? Some kind of witch?”

Wooyoung chuckled, his expression softening. “Not exactly, but you are the answer.”

Your frustration boiled over as you stood up, throwing your arms up in disbelief. “Enlighten me, then! How am I supposed to do any of this?”

Wooyoung stood up as well, handing you something—it was the book. Your fingers trail on the dirt and burn edges of the book. “This will explain what you need to know,” he said, a familiar teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’ll figure it out, my nerdy girl. Like you always do.”

You looked down at the book in confusion, but when you looked up again, Wooyoung was gone. “Wooyoung?” you called out, looking around your room but there was no answer.

Groaning in frustration, you collapsed back onto the bed, the weight of the day crashing down on you. The whirlwind of events—the court, San, Wooyoung, curses—it was all too much to process. Your head pounded as exhaustion finally caught up with you.

As you laid there, staring at the ceiling, your mind raced with unanswered questions. Sleep was what you needed, but it refused to come, haunted by thoughts of what lay ahead.

The next morning, you awoke groggy, your mind foggy from the little sleep you'd managed to get. Your body ached, the weight of the previous day's events still lingering. You felt the press of the book sprawled open on top of your chest, its pages fluttering slightly with your breath. Sitting up, you half expected to find yourself back in your own world—surrounded by the familiar mess of school papers, textbooks, and your ever-glowing laptop.

But as your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light filtering through the ornate, floor-to-ceiling windows, the reality of where you were settled in again. The lavish Victorian room, with its high ceilings and intricate wallpaper, greeted you. The rich fabrics and wooden furnishings felt worlds apart from the comfort of your bedroom. You blinked away the last remnants of sleep, rubbing your hands over your face before they slid into your hair in frustration.

Tears welled up unbidden, and you found yourself burying your face in your hands, letting out a small, strangled cry. Yesterday had been a whirlwind—being accused of witchcraft, nearly incinerating the court with your fiery outbursts, and the shock of seeing Wooyoung again, dressed like a prince from a forgotten era. The weight of it all felt suffocating, and the uncertainty gnawed at you.

How did you end up here?

What happened to your life back in your own world?

You wiped the tears away roughly, forcing yourself to focus, but the sense of helplessness was all too real. The unknowns crowded your mind until you could barely breathe. You glanced around the room, taking in the elegant but foreign surroundings—the intricately carved bedposts, the silk curtains, the delicate lace on the hem of your Victorian-style nightgown. The sensation of it against your skin was yet another reminder that this wasn't a dream.

You slowly stood, wincing as your body protested with stiff muscles. You walked to the balcony doors, pushing them open. A cool breeze kissed your face as you stepped outside. Below, the town bustled, people moving through the streets in their period clothing. Your jeans and hoodie from yesterday were folded neatly on a chair in the corner, a sharp contrast to the elegant gowns and tailored suits everyone else wore.

It made you feel like an alien, stuck in a world where you didn’t belong.

Sighing deeply, you looked down at the book Wooyoung had left you. It felt heavy in your hands, like it carried the weight of the answers you were desperately searching for. Yesterday, he’d called you the key to solving San’s curse, the answer to finishing this strange fairy tale.

“But why me?” you muttered aloud, flipping through the pages again, frustration seeping through your voice. It was as if the book mocked you with its cryptic contents. You were no witch, no storyteller that could craft happy endings.

 You were just… you. And yet, here you were, tasked with untangling the threads of a curse you barely understood. Running a hand through your tangled hair, you decided you needed to get through the day—no matter how foreign or overwhelming everything felt. Maybe, just maybe, you’d find some clue in this chaotic world to get you back to where you belonged. Or at least, find a way to help San and end this madness.

Bracing yourself for the unknown, you pushed open the door to your room, stepping into

“Good, you’re up.”

“Ring Ding Dong… fuck! Seriously? Early in the morning?” you huffed, startled out of sleep as your hand flew to your racing heart. San stood casually against the wall, arms crossed and an unreadable expression on his face. Ignoring your outburst, he pushed himself off the wall, turning his back to you and walking away with a calm, measured stride.

“Don’t stand there. We’ve got a long day ahead of us, and it’s already past breakfast,” he called over his shoulder. You scrambled to keep up with him, your shorter strides forcing you into a jog beside him as he led you down familiar corridors toward the courtroom.

As you reached the entrance, San stopped abruptly, blocking your path with his arm. His eyes scanned you up and down, and he let out a quiet sigh. Without a word, he shrugged off his coat and tossed it at you. “Here. Put this on.”

Confused, you caught the coat and stared at it for a moment, your brow furrowed in uncertainty. But San was already walking inside. Shrugging nonchalantly, you draped the coat over your shoulders, its warmth offering a small comfort. You smoothed down your hair and stepped into the courtroom.

As soon as you crossed the threshold, the room fell silent. The same people were gathered as before, but there was a new presence—one that commanded your immediate attention. The king himself was here. His imposing figure sat at the head of the room, eyes sharp and calculating. A heavy weight settled on your chest as you instinctively pulled San's coat tighter around you, your earlier confidence slipping away. You bowed your head low in deference.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” you greeted softly.

When you straightened up, your eyes found Wooyoung's across the room. He offered you a small, reassuring smile and nodded in greeting. Instantly, the tightness in your chest eased.

“Good morning, Prince Wooyoung,” you replied, returning his smile.

“See! She’s a witch! First, she knows Prince San, and now she knows Prince Wooyoung’s name!” A familiar, accusatory voice rang out across the room. One of the court officials pointed an accusing finger at you, his voice filled with contempt. “This is getting ridiculous, my king! They are sending threats—she’s already starting!”

You bit the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to roll your eyes, but your patience snapped, and you glanced sideways with a small eye roll.

“Do not roll your eyes, child.” The king’s voice boomed through the room, freezing you in place. His gaze pinned you where you stood—intense, yet not hostile. There was a curious edge to it, like he was trying to decipher something about you.

He leaned forward, placing both hands on the table in front of him. “You present yourself with confidence, but there’s something about you. An aura… one that says you are not to be trifled with.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You glanced quickly at Wooyoung, who blinked at you slowly—a signal only you two understood.

‘Do it.’

“What kingdom are you from?” The king’s question was measured, but his tone carried weight. You took a steady breath, gathering your composure before answering.

“I have no kingdom or town, Your Highness. I am from the City of Seoul. I am no princess, but I am not a commoner either. I am a protector—a soldier—of my city.”

Murmurs erupted throughout the room, and you could feel the curiosity shifting into speculation. San, who stood just behind the king, shifted on his feet, crossing his arms with a curious expression. The king nodded thoughtfully.

“And should I know the name of this protector from Seoul?” he asked.

You nodded, standing straighter. “Your Highness, I am Brigid.”

The room fell into a stunned silence. Whispers hissed among the courtiers as the weight of the name settled over the court like a heavy cloud.

As you laid there, staring at the ceiling, your mind raced with unanswered questions. Sleep was what you needed, but it refused to come, haunted by thoughts of what lay ahead. The king’s curious gaze, San’s lingering silence, Wooyoung’s cryptic message—it all danced through your thoughts, preventing sleep from taking hold. Frustrated, you grabbed the book you had been reading earlier and flipped through the pages, hoping it would distract you.

As this is basically from a century ago, light bulbs were still being established around this time so you settled using the oil lamp just by the desk near your dresser. You groan as another match snaps in half and your hands smack the box of matches on the table defeatedly. 

Then a spark pops in your head though it makes you smack your forehead as you remember that you discovered something new today. You have powers— flame. With the snap of your fingers, the tip of your forefinger lit up, placing the fire inside the oil lamp and the dark room was covered with red and orange hue as you read the book.

 Dragon Mountain.

As you did, you noted that this started during the first war. It did not introduce the Utopia, instead it shows the story about the lives of dragon tamers. Dragons evolved from Pteranodon and with the belief of Gods and Goddess, the first scavengers who learned about the ritual had called the Goddess of Fire— Brigid. 

Your hand traces the picture of the Goddess. Her fiery hair yet her face is gentle as a mother’s love, “She was summoned by the scavengers and traded their goods to evolve the dinosaurs to something more— eerie.”

“They have tricked the Goddess that they will use their agreement to transport for a better way of going around but in reality, when it was too late— Brigid learned from the worst that the scavengers had kill every living using the Pteranodon— what now she calls pseudodragon. They were still small, similar to a dragon-like creature but not close to being an actual dragon.” Until she had enough and wouldn't dare to use them for no good and she took care of them, it was one night that she was ambushed by his fellow Gods and tried to kill the “creature” because of the threatening it looks to the human kind, fleeing and securing a place between the valleys. A river surrounded by trees and after trees and mountains after mountains where she and what now she evolved her pseudodragon to actual fire breathing dragon to defend themselves.

“Brigid birthed the first fire dragons … “ You mumble as you take the book and move towards the bed. You also remember the town square has this same image, a statue of Brigid— an honorary statue for her.

Your head tilted to the side in confusion, “Does this kingdom have anything to do with Brigid?”

You found yourself being pampered by maids, all under the king’s orders. While the luxury made you uncomfortable—since you were used to doing everything on your own—you were dressed in a white short-sleeve blouse with a corset and a high-waist blue skirt with big pockets on your side, the book fitting inside. Lunch was prepared as you sat, adjusting to the strange royal treatment. 

Taking a bite on your breakfast, you read the book about Brigid— a mythology book that you saw among the rows of books inside your room. 

“Not bad,” he teases, as he enters your room. The maids halt in their work and bow at the prince before continuing to work around your room. “Pulling something like that in front of King Choi? You’ve got guts.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but his comment opens a floodgate of thoughts. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you sigh deeply. “Wooyoung, if this is some kind of quest or trial… after everything from last night, I’m starting to wonder if this is my reality now.”

Your voice wavers, and Wooyoung’s playful demeanor falters. He sat beside you, “It Iis your new reality, it made me wonder why it chose you to be the key but—” His voice cut off when he clutched his chest, his expression twisting in pain as he dropped to the floor.

“Woo!” You moved to his side in an instant, kneeling beside him, worry flooding your chest. “What is it? Are you okay?” He exhales shakily, trying to steady himself as he shifts to sit on the ground. You gesture for the maids to call for help, but Wooyoung shakes his head, reaching out to stop you.

“I’m fine,” he mutters. “It’s just… a part of the curse.”

Your eyes widen at his words. “Curse? What curse, Wooyoung?”

He exhales again, the sound ragged. “It was placed on us. It’s part of the reason we—San and I— and the others are tied to all of this.” 

"Others? There’s more?" Your voice rises in surprise, eyes wide as you process the implication that it wasn’t just these two involved.

“They’re our distant cousins... so yeah.” Wooyoung’s voice is quiet, the weight of his words pressing down on you both.

Your eyebrows knit together. "Is it Brigid?" you ask, your voice soft but steady, the question hanging heavy in the air. Wooyoung shakes his head, "No ... never. The Goddess never dares.", but a small cough escapes him. Instinctively, you reach out, ready to help him lie down, but he waves you off. "It's fine. Just… a recurring thing. Been like this for a while."

Your heart tightens painfully in your chest, eyes beginning to sting with unshed tears. "How did I not notice?" you whisper, guilt washing over you like a wave.

He chuckles softly, though the sound is strained. Reaching out, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. “Because it’s not noticeable, I'm fine nerdy girl. Just a normal cough in our world… nothing more.”

But you both knew better. The door creaks open as the doctors arrive, and you step back, giving them space and do their work, your mind spinning. You drift towards the balcony, eyes distant as you stare out over the kingdom bathed in the afternoon sun, but your thoughts are far from the present.

“What kind of curse was it to have them weak inside…” you murmur to yourself, confusion wrapping tight around your heart, squeezing the air from your lungs.

What did this mean?

A voice cuts through your thoughts, low and familiar. “You’re quite casual with the Prince of Sanil.”

You turn to find San leaning against the balcony door, arms crossed, his sharp eyes studying you closely. His expression is unreadable, though a flicker of something crosses his gaze.

Your mouth opens to respond but closes just as quickly, a sigh escaping your lips instead. You move to sit down on the sun chair provided, brushing off his comment. “I don’t need a lecture right now, San.”

“Why not?” His voice is calm but curious, probing, the fact ignoring how you address him by his name. You tilt your head, meeting his gaze, your expression serious. “Because both you, Wooyoung, and this entire kingdom are doomed if I don’t focus right now.”

The shift in the air between you is subtle, but you notice the way his breath hitches, the way his body tenses slightly at the mention of his kingdom. His eyes darken. Without a word, San steps forward, crossing the distance between you with a few swift strides. He grabs your elbow, pulling you to your feet before you can react, his grip firm but not painful.

His face is mere inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin as his gaze locks onto yours, intense and searching. “You address me and Wooyoung by our title! And what exactly can you do with those powers of yours? Burn us?” he challenges, his voice low and edged with suspicion. "I can’t afford to be tricked by your witchery.”

His words hit you like a slap, your nostrils flaring with irritation. You yank your arm away sharply, but even as you pull back, the space between you remains charged with tension. "Believe whatever you want, but I'm doing this for Wooyoung, my friend is suffering because of this curse—I'll do whatever it takes to break it."

San scoffs, his eyes narrowing as he leans closer, his expression hard. "You don’t even know what this curse is, and yet here you are, making empty promises."

You roll your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you meet his glare with your own challenge. "Don’t test me, Your Highness."

He closes the gap between you even further, his voice dropping to a near whisper as his breath grazes your skin. "Do tell, witch."

His words are laced with provocation, a deliberate attempt to push you past your limits. But you hold your ground, your resolve strengthening as you feel the weight of everything at stake. 

Your voice is steady, unwavering. "Your story will end if the curse begins."

taglist: @passerbyforfun . @seongwars . @candied-czennie

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hiya! Could you do a one-shot of Alastor x fem! reader who is like Art the clown (from the terrifier movies, all hallows eve and the ninth circle)?

Perhaps they met when Alastor first got to hell and reader wanted to kill him at first but due to his old fashioned ways (the courting and such) along with him being quite sadistic when it comes to killing, she became more curious about him and it led to a relationship?

How would their relationship be? Would it become more of a one sided thing? Would she try to harm him after he comes back from his seven year absence? I’d love to see your interpretation on this!

~ 🕷️

Terrify Me~

(Anon, I promise I did not forget you! I have never seen these movies and call myself a horror fanatic! So I watched them all as I had the time to try and be better at this writing! I hope you enjoy and stay hydrated!) TW: Torture, Death, assault, Suggestive, Sad, Comfort

Hell was far more entertaining than back up on the earth, though yes, it sucked dying to those damn cops. This was where it was at. You had free reign to torture and torment those around you; the good deal was that people didn’t die permanently as long as you used the right tools. This led to such an easy time finding prey to stalk. It also allowed you to develop incredible powers as people begged and pleaded with you for deals on being free from torment. 

You were a terrifying creature, a black-and-white marionette doll with no voice box. Your movements and attention to detail got you through your life in hell. You were sadistic and cruel to whoever became your prey for the time you spent stalking them, hunting them, and slowly driving your enemy mad. You were so good at the job that people recognized you as an Overlord before even discussing it with you. Of course, who would dare get in your line of sight less you make them the next target? 

You didn’t care about hell’s silly hierarchy or games; you only cared about getting your fill. Your mind was on the prize of listening to beautiful screams and cries. Like a masterful puppet pulling strings, your looks did not portray your abilities all that well. You may have looked like the prey, but you were the top predator. You were deadly, mind, body, and soul.

Years had passed of your reign as the queen of torture till a new man arrived on the scene. Alastor, the radio demon, died not too long after your rise to fame and began to make waves in the underworld as he broadcasted screams of the damned and tortured. His show quickly became one of your favorites, and you would play it as you killed and murdered innocent demonic souls, hoping to make a deal with you for safety. 

Eventually, though, your love and passion for the radio demon's show turned to disgust and hate as he began to take your place in the world of torturing the damned. You had found a new prey to stalk, and it was someone who was equally matched. 

Your stalk began small, with just hushed whispers and knowledge of the man you wished to end. You found photos and some video of him, but it was grainy and distorted. He was a handsome man. He would be so beautiful strung up. As you thought of many ways to torture and abuse him, the next phase of your plan was in order.

Though you were an ‘overlord,’ you never attended meetings. However, you did start when it came to hunting Alastor. Watching his every move and emotion, you saw he was good at mimicking and faking just like you. Yet you had to say you were just that much better at it. When you two first officially met, you could visibly see the disdain on his face when you couldn’t speak. Like many powerful beings, Alastor puts weight on words, something you have no control over, always giving you the upper hand. 

You found every excuse to be around and speak to the man. Eager to move on to stage three of your plan to capture and torment this soul. Actively seeking Alastor out, you began to carry a notepad to speak with him. Small conversations that would sometimes run long. You enjoyed his voice, at least. You thought it would sound lovely, screaming in pain and agony. 

Though you had these sick, twisted thoughts about Alastor, you couldn’t help but be curious about the other feelings he elicited. You wanted to hear him sing, watch him smile, and enjoy his murder. His many good qualities interested you even more. You even sought medical help in the man before you as you didn’t understand these stirrings you had around him and him alone.

As the final plan commenced where you would capture and torture him, you were caught off guard by a single black rose being placed before you. Looking at it and holding it gently, you felt your undead heart flutter. This situation happened many times over and over.

You would go to kill or capture Alastor, and right there, every time you would execute your plan, he would have a trinket or doo dad for you to keep as your own. He began to touch you gently, shoulders, face, sides. Things started to shift in you; you were being courted, and it wasn’t until you experienced this love that you realized it happened: Alastor had you under his spell. 

Your plans of killing Alastor were long gone; now, you just wanted to have the joy of torturing others together. Come a year of your stupid game; you were now officially Alastor's partner in crime. It was charming how he always let you get the first stab and helped you stalk and scare others. He even taught you how to cook and kill the dead sinners. Things were well between you two, so well that domestic life began to become a norm for two sadistic sinners. Yet it all changed one day suddenly. You had been out on a kill someone you and Alastor had stalked for months. However, when you returned covered in blood and a dead body in tow, Alastor was nowhere to be found. You waited a year in that small home you two made, and he never appeared.

After seven long years, you returned to the top of the food chain; you were vicious and cold-hearted. Bloodthirsty. You allowed yourself to be blindsided by a man who couldn’t even say goodbye. Anger consumed you as the years passed, and you became known as the terrifier. You were deadly on a much larger scale than your first time on the scene. You were always longing for Alastor just to come back home. You were longing openly to all that you would kill him and make him pay.

While on the town killing, you heard a familiar buzz. Your blood ran cold as the familiar sound flooded your senses. Running to the old home, you two shared the life long forgotten: you hoped so badly to see him standing there as he once did. Would you kill him? Let him live? Fall into his arms again?

As you entered the house, he wasn’t there. It was still empty, still intact, the same as you left it six years ago. Sighing, you left and walked to the nearest brothel to kill some easy dirtbags. That's when you saw the shadow. Was this a game? Some sick, twisted game to make you think Alastor had come back for you.

Following the shadow, you grew more rabid and curious. Eventually, you found yourself atop a hill where the Hazbin Hotel sat. Walking in, it was silent; it was late at night, and you assumed everyone was asleep. Stepping further into the forbidden territory, you looked around cautiously. It was homey and bright, too bright for your liking, yet some of the decor looked like what you saw in your old home with Alastor.

You felt the presence before you heard it, and suddenly, a bright smile overtook your face. He was here; he was back. Seeing before you Alastor, the radio demon, your lost love, you took a step towards him, afraid it was fake. You don’t know what emotion overtook you the most. You wanted to tear him apart, yet seeing him there, everything felt so surreal. His smile, for once, was authentic, and as he opened his arms out for you and you rushed in, you heard the faintest, “Oh, how you still terrify me…”

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 13

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Roger: ——, ——, … ——, Kate. —...Hey, Kate.

The sound I heard coming from the other side of the fog suddenly became Roger’s voice coming from nearby.

Kate: Oh! Ah…Sorry, I spaced out.

It was only a short while after Victor had told us that the cursed Lance Brown had passed away.

The way it went was the last night when Lance was going to be arrested for murder, he went in a fit of rage and was shot to death on the spot.

Kate: …How did he get charged for murder? And the person he was accused of killing was— 

~~ Flashback start ~~

Kate: Is she someone important to you, Lance?

Lance: Huh.

Kate: Ah, well…even with untrained eyes, I could tell a lot of care was put into the painting.

Lance: …Yes. The young lady is someone I like.

She works at a bakery near the studio…

~~ Flashback end ~~

(The lady Lance had a crush on)

Roger: Kate, let’s go.

Kate: Huh, where are we going?

Roger: The information we got from Victor was only the aftermath. We still don’t have details on what happened. If we go ask around the crime scene, we might be able to fill in the blanks on what happened. You, me, even Lance…We can’t just let this go.

(I was planning on investigating whether Lance was cursed or not with Roger)

(And after that, I was going to speak with him on finding ways to make Lance’s life easier…)

(I can’t just let it end like this)

Kate: Okay…Let’s go, Roger.

--

When we went to the scene of the crime from last night, we were lucky to be near a bar Roger regularly went to.

(He brought me here once…)

I asked the familiar barkeep about last night…

Barkeep: Last night’s incident? Yeah, I saw what happened. Was curious.

Roger: That was fast. Hey barkeep, can you tell us what you saw last night?

Barkeep: Sure, but it’s not a nice story y’know? Might be a bit much for the young lady here.

(If you know what happened to Lance…)

Kate: It’s fine. Please tell us.

Barkeep: Well if my favorite customer and the lovely young lady are asking, then I suppose telling a bit won’t hurt. Let’s see…it was around 22:00 last night when it happened. I was making a drink when I heard a scream from outside. Curious, I ran out to see what happened. Then, I saw a girl with red hair bleeding out in the alley ahead.

(Young lady with red hair…It definitely was the one in the paining)

Roger: Do you know if the girl was still breathing at the time?

Barkeep: She was dead. At least that’s what others who came to check it out said. And that’s where the story begins.

The barkeep leaned over and lowered his voice.

Barkeep: A young man stood next to the girl who bled out, his mouth smeared with blood.

Roger: Smeared with blood? Was he hurt too?

Barkeep: No, it was definitely the girl’s blood.

(No way…)

Kate: That young man…Did he have blonde hair and hazel green eyes?

Barkeep: Yeah, he did. So you know him.

(It really was Lance and the girl in the…)

(What happened between those two?)

Barkeep: Soon, more people came by to see what happened and the scene became complete chaos. The police hadn’t arrived yet and people started crowding around the young man.

~ Flashback ~

Male spectator: Hey you, did you kill this girl…?!

Lance: I-I didn’t do it! I was just trying to watch her pass by from my studio on the second floor over there. And then…I saw someone dragging her into this alleyway. Then…When I came running over…

Male spectator: Then what’s that on your mouth? Why is it stained with blood!

Lance: This…

Lance desperately tried to defend himself.

However, the accusations grew louder before the police arrived.

In that moment—One of the spectators exclaimed:

Female spectator: Killing someone and sipping their blood is just disturbing. Like a monster…

Lance: …

In that instant, Lance went speechless, as if something within snapped.

And then tears poured down his cheeks.

Lance: I didn’t…do anything.

~Flashback end~

Barkeep: …He continued arguing with the people around before the police finally arrived. Then, something weird happened.

Kate: …Something weird?

Barkeep: The guy suddenly went nuts and started hugging the police. Each officer hugged fainted on after another. The ones that managed to get away shot him before he could hurt anyone else.

(...Sudden hugs)

The same thing happened when Lance was arrested at the butcher’s shop.

(Did Lance…use his ability to get himself killed?)

(...That definitely has to be it)

Roger: …

Barkeep: Ah, I remembered another thing. He said something like…

~ Flashback ~

Lance: I really…didn’t do anything. But…yeah…I am…a monster. When I see you, my beloved…I just want to eat you up… I still want to sip your blood…even after you’ve taken your last breath. Still…Maybe it’s better for me to die.

(He wanted to eat…the person he liked…?)

In this case it wasn’t a euphemism for love, but literally his intent.

Roger: —Could it be that… His cursed sin is…cannibalism?

(...No way)

But when you think about it, it would make sense why Lance was eating meat in the butcher’s shop, as if to misdirect it.

(He really is a Cursed One)

Barkeep: These days you hear a lot of young men and women get attacked or go missing. Did the young man do all this? Too bad the police killed him before questioning him.

(That was the full story…)

In the end, he was no longer a part of this world— 

Of the little memories I had of Lance, one short conversation came to mind.

~~ Flashback ~~

Lance: I’m just happy watching her from here.

…If I just watch her, my love won’t hurt her.

~~ End flashback ~~

(Lance was aware of his desires)

(That’s why he was smiling, happy to just watch so that he wouldn’t hurt her)

(He tried to save the person he loved and then that happened)

(...This is like)

Roger: “‘Cursed One’s’ tragic fate can’t be altered. In the past, there have been no exceptions.” That’s so true, it makes me laugh.

I looked at Roger when his shoulders shook.

Kate: Um, Roger…

???: Hey, hey. A man dressed in all white with a nice smile and parted bangs just told me something. You were talking about the murder from last night.

(Huh…?)

I turned around and saw a stranger leaning against the counter with a smile.

(...All white and parted bangs? Was it…)

I looked around, but the person I had in mind was nowhere to be found.

Kate: And you are…

Nicholas the novelist: Just some insignificant novelist called Nicholas. And these are…

Michael the playwright: Michael, a playwright.

Joanna the caricaturist: Joanna, a caricaturist.

Barkeep: Ah, these three are people of culture who are regulars here. They like to stick their noses in other people’s business.

Nicholas the novelist: We have to! We’re always looking for inspiration for our works. Man tries to eat a girl with red hair. It’s like the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood.

Joanna the caricaturist: Don’t lump this together with a childish fairytale like Little Red Riding Hood. It’s an insult to a sensational incident.

Michael the playwright: A bloodstained girl and a man standing over her in shock. Aha, I have an idea!

(...Why are they so happy?)

(Oh right, Roger mentioned something yesterday…)

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: You know why these have become known as “Fairytale Curses”. Novelists and playwrights around the world created works based on existing “Cursed Ones”.

It’s said to be what started them off.

(Though I get where they’re coming from, I can’t understand their indiscretion…)

In the past, many fairytales created were based on the tragic ends of the Cursed Ones.

And perhaps, a new fairytale will be born tonight.

Seeing the moment when a “fairytale curse” would be born made my head spin.

(I know people are free to create what they want and no one can fault them for that)

(But to do so when someone just left this world…)

Michael the playwright: I hope more tragic incidents happen. That way I can create the best stage performances!

Nicholas the novelist: More material for our works! Haha, just kidding!

(...)

In that moment, as if to cut off their laughter, Roger slammed his mug down on the table.

Roger: They didn’t die to be a spectacle for you lot.

(Roger…)

The place fell completely quiet and the three put on fake smiles.

Michael the playwright: Ah, erm…

Nicholas the novelist: Um…We didn’t mean to make fun of people’s deaths.

Joanna the caricaturist: That’s right. Just having jokes at a bar.

Roger: —Just kidding.

Roger smirked.

Michael the playwright: ���Huh?

Roger: You were starving for stimulation, so I thought I’d surprise you.

Michael the playwright: …Wha What the heck! You scared me!

Roger: Ahaha, sorry.

(Wha…!)

Michael the playwright: That performance was so real. Want to join my troupe?

Nicholas the novelist: You can scout later. Let’s have a drink as thanks for surprising us!

Roger: Yeah, sure.

While I was at a loss for words, Roger threw his arm around Nicholas’ shoulders.

(I can’t watch this anymore!)

Kate: Roger…

Roger: Hmm?

Roger downed his beer and ruffled my hair.

Kate: Stop…

Roger: We heard what happened. The investigations’s over so there’s no point in digging any deeper.

I’m still not convinced

And you’re okay with that?

I don’t think that’s how you truly feel +4 +4

Kate: I don’t think that’s how you truly feel.

Roger: …Geez. Don’t worry about it and drink. Ah, remember not to drink too much.

As he ordered another beer, Roger looked the same as usual. Unwavering and without hesitation.

My heart ached at that.

(Even if you say it’s over and that there’s no point)

(I’m just…simply not convinced)

(Maybe…If we told Lance “you’re a Cursed One”, would things have changed?)

That’s all I could think about. I couldn’t taste the alcohol at all.

—A few hours later.

Kate: Huh, where did Roger go…?

I was ignoring Roger while sipping my drink, and the next thing I knew, he was gone.

Barkeep: Saw him head out a while ago. Maybe he went to get some air.

(Outside? But…)

The rain that had just begun to fall wet the windows.

(What’s he doing out there in the rain…)

Kate: I’m going to go check on him really quick.

Barkeep: Take an umbrella with you if you’re heading outside.

Kate: Thank you.

--

I didn’t see Roger anywhere near the bar so I went out looking for him with the umbrella the barkeep lent me.

Kate: …It’s raining a lot.

Fine mist blew in the wind with the rain and I peered down alleyways while clutching the umbrella when…

(Ah…I found…him)

(...Roger…?)

There Roger stood, alone in the rain, without an umbrella.

(I’ve never seen him look like that before…)

His expression looked so fragile, as if wandering alone in a deep, foggy forest.

(...)

When I saw his profile, I instantly realized that I had been mistaken.

(...Why)

(Why did I think…that Roger was okay?)

(Maybe I thought…Roger was satisfied)

(There’s no way Roger would not be frustrated when he’s been confronting curses for so long)

(If we had told Lance about Cursed Ones at the time…there wouldn’t have been regrets)

I quietly set my umbrella aside and looked up at the pitch black sky with Roger.

(...Ah, I see)

(For his entire life, Roger’s been fighting this endless battle against despair)

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: When you first became Fairytale Keeper, you told me about how crushed you felt by your own weakness.

“I won’t despair”.

Kate: …Yes. I remember.

Roger: Even though you felt depressed, it was sweet seeing you keep looking forward and not give in to despair.

I also believe that in life is to give despair the finger.

Kate: Give despair the finger?

Roger: Yeah. I went through the trouble of being born. I’m not gonna give into despair so easily.

~~ End flashback ~~

I always thought that he was someone strong who could laugh at despair as if it was nothing.

(That’s why I had this simple-minded admiration for Roger…)

(Roger isn’t strong)

(...He’s a person who was trying to be strong)

(I’ve been by your side, but...just what was I looking at?)

Roger knew despair and he took my hand.

Even now, he stayed by my side and watched over me.

(...)

I took a step forward to run toward Roger.

But I couldn’t take the next step.

(If I run over to him, it would just be for self-satisfaction)

Otherwise Roger wouldn’t have been standing out here alone in the rain like this.

(But if I was allowed to)

(If I ran over to Roger…)

(I’d hug him)

There was a faint sound in my chest like rainfall.

(...Hug…him?)

(...)

That heartrendingly sweet sound was…

Kate: …I…

I clutched my hands over my heart.

—I returned to the bar unnoticed.

His POV | Next

[maleyanderecafe]

May I recommend Deep obsession on itchio? It's 18+ tho, so heed the warnings.

Man... that sure is a r18+ game that I just played. That being said, there are some pretty interesting things after a lot of the smut parts were done. You can play the game here if you are interested. This is a game submitted to the Stained Red Yandere Jam which I will not only be participating in but also do recommendations from.

The story starts out with Hex on the news learning about how five reporters went missing after trying to go after a snuff streamer. Hex doesn't believe the news at first but becomes curious, searching into it. After some searching and getting a link, they log into one of the streams to see of course, a snuff stream. While horrified by the death of the lady on stream, Hex becomes entranced with their voice, something that they try to fight the urge to look to again. The next day, they go to the mall to get some snacks and hang out, only to have someone tap on their shoulder when resting. They find a chocolate in their pocket and presumably get their keys stolen (though they don't seem to realize this, believing they lost their keys) before going to sleep after the neighbors help them get in. After a restless night of what they presume to be sleep paralysis of being touched and watched, they get the morbid feeling of wanting to watch the snuff streamer again, to which they do. After jacking off and promptly falling asleep watching the stream, they wake up with a jolt, only to be kidnapped. Upon waking up, they find that they are indeed, captures by the person who they've been watching streaming. Hex actually gets quite into this, not only deepthroating but straight up asking the streamer to bite their thighs. They have various sexy times, with Hex seemingly into it.

If Hex is more or less chilled out, they will freak out when the streamer ends it stating that they will kill Hex. This turns out to be a lie, as the streamer actually keeps them alive as they like Hex. They reveal that their name is Victor. The last scene has Victor seemingly fighting his conscious as a mysterious person talks about how this will not last, how they are the same as the others, before he wakes up and coddles Hex to sleep.

If Hex screams, they will again freak out when the streamer states that he will kill them, though they reassure them that he will not. He also pretty much gets shot at, with the mysterious person, whose name is Simon, essentially recruiting Hex afterwards for something.

So far, it is a pretty interesting premise seeing Hex actually be into more of the snuff streaming things, considering how into Victor's voice they seem to be. I do like the kind of concepts where the MC is pretty messed up at least to this degree. We don't really get to know that much about Simon or Victor though. We know that Victor has been stalking Hex for a bit, considering I don't think it was sleep paralysis that was groping and watching them. And they seemingly know where Hex lives and even seems to know their name and probably gave them the chocolate while they were at the mall. Still, again, other than knowing that Victor is a snuff streamer, has no problems with killing people and likes Hex, we really know very little to nothing about him. Same with the Simon person who apparently hires us. I think it would be a cool twist that in the end Hex ends up being a snuff streamer as well, following in the twisted footsteps of Victor. The art style mostly consists of blacks and whites which is always a fun thing to see in terms of stylization. I'm not really into that kind of dark smut as much as other people (I'm more on the side of wanting to torture someone, but I know most people don't tend ot share that sentiment in the yandere community, so that's alright), but I think it can be appealing to those who are interested in that.

Overall, a short but dark story. Considering this is likely a demo, I am really hoping that they will flesh out more of the story for Victor and Simon since the start of it does seem to leave a lot of interesting pathways that might be nice to follow.

[luvpookie02]

He's into YOU || Sano Manjiro x Reader || SMUT || YANDERE || 18+

004: In the Grasp of Madness

A loud laugh echoed throughout the room as a pink-haired man with a mullet swallowed two pills, rocking back and forth with exaggerated enthusiasm.

"C'mon, dance, Sanzu!" Ran called out, his phone in hand, recording the now dancing Sanzu. The rest of the executives erupted in laughter, especially the brothers, who couldn't contain their amusement. Takeomi and Kakucho, also recording, lay sprawled on the floor, clutching their stomachs from the intense laughter.

"You guys need to keep it down, or Mikey will get angry again," Kokonoi exclaimed, finally recovering from his fit of laughter, trying to maintain a semblance of seriousness.

Rindou turned his gaze to Kokonoi and smirked mischievously. "Don't worry; we'll just give him some company when he arrives."

Sanzu halted his dancing, confusion written all over his face. "What do you mean?" he asked, his brows knitting together. "Mikey's just going to kill whoever that girl is; what a waste! You should've let me f*ck her first."

Ran furrowed his brow and plopped down beside Rindou. "Mikey's not going to kill her, trust me. Besides, where did you and Mikey go? We thought you'd be here first since you left earlier than us."

Sanzu waved his hand dismissively. "We went to different clubs. Nothing out of the ordinary. Mikey still didn't like any girls, and of course, you know what I do."

Kakucho quickly covered Sanzu's mouth before he could spill any more details about his escapades, but Sanzu ended up spitting saliva onto Kakucho's hand, prompting the man to yank his hand away, cursing.

"What the hell, Sanzu?" Kakucho exclaimed, wiping the saliva off on Sanzu's clothes in exaggerated disgust.

As the two squabbled, Kokonoi looked at Sanzu with disbelief. "I still can't believe you found her and brought her here. It's a risky move."

The rest of the executives nodded in agreement with Kokonoi, their expressions a mix of intrigue and concern. Sanzu, on the other hand, grew curious after hearing Kokonoi's words. He pushed Kakucho away and asked, "Who's the girl you sent Mikey with? Is it Mina?"

Ran and Rindou exchanged sly glances, a smirk spreading across both of their lips. "It's something special, that's for sure."

------ HE'S INTO YOU ------

"Y/N, didn't I tell you that I'd kill you if you showed yourself to me?" Mikey's voice was low, almost a growl as he stared down at you, and your heart raced.

You widened your eyes, your gaze locked onto Mikey's intense expression, and tears began to stream down your cheeks as you mumbled his name, "M...Mi...Mikey."

Mikey furrowed his brow after hearing his name, his emotionless eyes boring into yours as he positioned himself, sitting down heavily on your waist.

He then pointed his gun toward your forehead, the cold metal pressing against your skin, and exclaimed, "You're a fcking bitch, you know?"

You stared at him, your breath quickening as you waited for him to continue. "Are you this desperate to win me back? You even wore my shirt," he taunted, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"I know you're lying about it, Mikey. Even about having an affair," you shot back, summoning all your courage to maintain eye contact.

You waited for his response, but instead, you were met with dead silence; he just stared at you, his gaze unwavering, waiting for you to continue.

A small smile appeared on your face, a flicker of hope in your heart as you continued, "I know you only do that and say those mean things to protect me, right?"

Mikey's dark gaze bore into yours. His hand traveled down your face to your neck, where he began to choke you lightly, but it felt like a vice. "Huh? Can you shut up? You don't know anything," he growled.

You held his hand, struggling against the grip as you fought for air. Instead of crying, you smiled weakly and cupped his cheek, trying to bring his face closer to yours.

"You did all of that not only to protect me but also for everyone, right? It's all thanks to you; everyone is happy, alive, and has a decent job, just like you wanted," you murmured, tears flowing freely from your eyes.

"We're happy, thanks to you, Mikey. Draken and Emma are getting married, Pah-Chin has a girlfriend now, and I have my own boyfriend," you added, your voice trembling slightly.Mikey's eyes widened, his brow furrowing in confusion, and he tightened his grip on your neck, choking you again.

"I...I...can't...breathe!" you cried, your voice cracking, but Mikey didn't stop; he continued to choke you, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

He threw his gun to the side of the room with a clatter and used his other hand to grip your neck tighter, panting heavily as if he were suffocating. You were horrified, recognizing this scene;every time he heavily breathed like this,it was a sign he couldn't control his dark impulses.

You had witnessed it multiple times—how he almost murdered someone due to these impulses—and the fact that he was losing control now indicated he might hurt you in the worst way possible.

"If you're happy now, why do you still show yourself? Y/N!" he yelled, his voice laced with frustration. He tightened his grip, his knuckles turning white as he stared into your eyes, and you tried to touch his cheek to calm him, but it was no use.

Mikey noticed you were about to pass out, so he gritted his teeth and finally released his hold on your neck. You pushed him away and sank to the floor, gasping for breath.

Mikey quickly grabbed the collar of your shirt, jerking you back to him, but he didn't say anything; he just stared at you with an intensity that made your heart race.

"It's not my fault, Mike—" You couldn't finish your sentence when you felt intense pain in your stomach; he punched you hard.

"Did you just come here to say how happy your life is, huh?" Mikey exclaimed, his tone sharp. You tried to respond, but your words failed you as you crumpled to the ground.

You shakily covered your mouth, trying to stop the blood from spilling out, but it was futile. He punched you again, this time with even more force, and you gasped as the pain shot through you.

Mikey's dark eyes bore into your trembling form, showing no sign of remorse. He grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly with one arm and roughly throwing you onto the bed.

"AHHHHH!" you screamed as your head struck the headboard, sending a shock of pain through your skull and causing it to bleed.

He climbed onto the bed, pinning your legs down as he positioned himself on top of you. His hand caressed your face, but then he slapped you repeatedly on both sides, leaving you in shock.

You didn't try to stop him; you simply let him slap you because deep down, you knew he was going to end your life right then and there. What was the point of fighting back?

You closed your eyes, tears spilling down your cheeks as you braced for the worst. Mikey noticed your tears and suddenly stopped, his expression shifting. You thought he was going to shoot you, but his next action surprised you—he kissed you.

He forced your lips open by roughly grabbing your breast, his kiss turning torrid and consuming. The kiss lasted for three intense minutes, and you both breathed heavily as you caught your breath, hearts racing. "Why?" you managed to ask, bewildered.

"Do I have to explain everything to you? You're smart, right? Figure it out," he replied, ripping your shirt as if it were nothing.

Just as you were about to voice another question, he captured your lips once again, intertwining them in a heated, passionate kiss, his tongue exploring yours as his hand traveled down to your waist and then to your cunt.

He lowered your boxer and underwear before inserting a finger inside you; a moan escaped your lips, which only excited Mikey further.

He grabbed your breast, massaging it while his other finger slid deeper inside you. Goosebumps erupted across your skin as pleasure mixed with fear coursed through you. You touched your cunt, pushing Mikey's fingers out, but an irked expression appeared on his face. He forcefully grabbed both of your hands, pinning them above your head as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

He removed his lips from yours and spoke menacingly, "Don't fcking annoy me, or else." He smirked, continuing, "I'm going to kill your friend. I believe her name is Yoru, right?" You widened your eyes, unable to utter any words; your gaze locked onto his, fear gripping your heart as you realized the danger surrounding you.

You widened your eyes, unable to utter any words; your gaze locked onto his, fear gripping your heart as you realized the danger surrounding you. "How the hell does he know Yoru? Is she also here? No, that's impossible; she met a guy and left before Ran and Rindou drugged me. Is Mikey spying on me?" you thought, panic rising within you.

You let him play with your body, touching everything and leaving marks from head to toe. The sensation mixed with fear was overwhelming, and you felt completely trapped.

Mikey then removed his shirt, revealing his toned body, a smirk plastered across his face. "Y/N, you love kids, right?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"What does that even mean?" you gasped, confusion mingling with the terror in your heart.

"Just thinking about how easy it would be to break you, and then, well... we'll see who's left standing," he replied, his expression darkening. "It's your choice, really. Either you submit to me, or I take everything you hold dear."

"Mikey, please," you whimpered, desperation coloring your voice. "You don't have to do this! I just wanted to see you."

He chuckled darkly, leaning closer. "And yet, here we are. You wanted to see me, but now look where it's gotten you."

With that, he pressed his lips against yours again, this time with a fiercer intensity. You felt his hands grip your wrists tightly, holding them above your head, the power he held over you palpable.

"Mikey, please..." you pleaded, your voice breaking as you felt tears streaming down your face. "I—I care about you. I want to help you!"

He pulled away for a moment, searching your eyes as if trying to decipher your sincerity. "Help? You think you can help me? You don't even understand the darkness I carry," he sneered, his expression hardening once more.

"You're right; I don't," you admitted, feeling a flicker of bravery. "But I want to. I want to be there for you, no matter what it takes."

His grip on your wrists loosened slightly, surprise flickering across his face. "You really are insane, aren't you?" he said, his voice softer now, though still laced with suspicion.

"Maybe," you replied, forcing a small smile despite the situation. "But I'm not going anywhere, Mikey. You can't get rid of me that easily."

For a moment, it felt like time stood still. Mikey's eyes softened, the rage momentarily subsiding as he contemplated your words. But just as quickly as the softness appeared, it vanished, replaced by a cold, calculated gaze.

"Keep thinking that, Y/N. Just know that the moment you cross me, there will be hell to pay," he warned, the intensity returning. "And your little friend Yoru? She'd be the first to go."

The threat hung heavily in the air, and you felt your heart sink. "You don't have to hurt her," you whispered, feeling helpless. "Just let her go. She has nothing to do with this."

Mikey's lips curled into a smirk. "Is that so? But then where's the fun in that?" He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "I enjoy the game, Y/N. And you've just entered my favorite level."

Your heart raced as the weight of his words settled in. You knew you had to be careful with your next move. "Mikey... just promise me you won't hurt her," you said, desperation creeping into your voice.

He straightened up, tilting his head slightly as if contemplating your request. "Fine. For now, I'll spare her. But don't think for a second that I won't change my mind," he said, a chilling smile on his lips.

The tension in the room was thick, and you could feel the air crackling with unspoken emotions. You didn't know how much longer you could endure this, but you refused to show weakness. "I won't let you turn into the monster you think you are, Mikey. I believe in you."

He laughed, the sound dark and menacing. "Believing in me won't save you, Y/N. But it's cute that you think it will."

You inhaled deeply, steeling yourself for whatever came next. "Then show me your true self, Mikey. I'm not afraid of the darkness. I want to help you find the light."

He paused, seemingly taken aback by your boldness. For a moment, uncertainty flickered across his features, but it was quickly replaced by an unsettling grin. "You really are brave—or foolish. Either way, this will be fun."

With that, he leaned down, capturing your lips once more in a fierce kiss. The taste of danger and passion mingled as you felt your world spiraling out of control. You knew you were treading on thin ice, but there was a part of you that couldn't help but want to delve deeper into the chaos that was Mikey.

"Let's see how long you can keep this up," he murmured against your lips, his tone a mix of challenge and intrigue.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized this was just the beginning of a tumultuous journey—a dance with darkness that you weren't sure you were ready for, but one you couldn't back away from.

As the night wore on, the echoes of laughter and chaos from the other room faded into the background, leaving only the two of you locked in a battle of wills, passion, and unspoken fears.

(A/N) lmk if you want to get tagged!

tagged: @itsruki @reiners-milkbiddies @emilymikado @strawberrycheescake3

[phonkscribes]

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

Right as the they are about to descend off that cliff, thrown off that ledge, you are there. Your arm hauls them up with a certain strength to them, the sinews in your arms flexing. At that moment, they're unable to say a word, too busy taking in the sight of you as you utter your witty line or carry on as if it weren't an issue-- effortless.

Saving the Spardas asses when they don't expect you to. ft. GN! Reader

Dante

He's fallen off of cliffs and such before, whether it was due to a missed jump or simply because he's gotten knocked out of the air. Dante tries to not make a habit out of it, but it's not like he's doing it intentionally. The legendary devil hunter just happens to be a bit less patient than his brother, even after all these years. There's just some things that don't change, like his eagerness to fight demons, even if it scares him. He isn't mortal, he won't die if he's shot or stabbed, there isn't much that could kill him-- like falling and hitting his head. It'd just hurt if anything, but maybe that's something that you didn't know.

Or at least cared for.

A hit from the devil he was fighting has him thrown back with a grunt, the sound is distinct on your ears as you whip around to see his crimson jacket flail in the wind along with him in it. You make another slash at the devils coming after you to go and chase his flying figure. Dante doesn't see you, as he looks up to the sky, thinking about how he's gonna nail the demon good for that one. As he's cast over the edge, you slide on over, an arm extended and catching his ankle as he descends. The sudden grab has him out of his daydream and curling up to look at... you!

You were a couple of yards away, how did you get here so fast? He could only watch as you used your other hand to start pulling him up by the leg as you swung him up back to the edge where you were. You almost fell in your self as you groan.

"Next time you take a swan dive, do it at the pool, yeah?", you huff, patting his leg as he got to his feet.

"Only if you're watchin' me, babe", he winked as he reached for Ebony & Ivory.

You could've slapped him, you really could've. Dante only chuckles at the way you frown for a moment before you go back to fighting, rolling your shoulders as you go. It's pretty hot, he thinks. The half-demon's glad he's got someone as strong as you are on his side, something that comforts him really, knowing that you've got his back.

Vergil

Falling doesn't scare him, he's done it before, but it's where he'll end up that tends to make him feel something other than adrenaline when facing his enemies. The first time he descended, it cost him his freedom, the last time he went to hell with his brother. Now it felt like a slight, a mistake made and he doesn't quite like those. The devils he was fighting now on behalf of joining Dante's little business were putting on a fight for once, with one of them even managing to knock him back a good distance. He had misjudged that and felt himself lose his footing on solid ground.

You'd seen him tip over the edge and in an instant you were rushing to his side, not that you were too far. With your devil arm, you dug into the side of the ledge and anchored yourself as you grabbed his arm. He had only stared in awe, shock that quickly subsided as he glowered. He was not one who needed saving, quite the opposite, even as you threw him over the edge to resume the fight.

Such raw strength... in a mortal, none the less. It was... curious. Where did such power come from, he had to wonder after he had dealt with your foes with a few judgement cuts. You managed to pull yourself up, rolling over onto your back with a long sigh.

"Thank you for that, though it was unnecessary", he had commented, looking at your prone state.

"You're welcome, you oughta watch your step next time", you joke as he offers a hand to help you to your feet this time.

"It will not happen again, I assure you", he says it with such a straight face, but you can tell that he's the slightest bit embarrassed.

Nero

You had just finished combing through your share of enemies, flicking your weapon to the side to clear it of blood as you look off into the distance. Nero was holding up well with Red Queen, revving her engine and ripping and tearing into the devils seamlessly. You could often admire how fluid he could be, like a duck bobbing and weaving through water. He looked like he didn't need your help, so you'd sit back and watch. Through the demons that surrounded him, he could feel your eyes on his back.

Nero would be lying if he didn't enjoy it when you were watching him, because in truth he had admired you too. Your skills and finesse were so badass and he hoped that maybe you thought of him like that too instead of how his uncle and father had seen him. Sure it wasn't too serious when he'd been called 'dead weight' but... it stuck with him. He wanted to prove that he could stand on his own two feet without needing their help, or yours for that matter. Ironic given his current circumstance. Nero had taken his eyes off of his opponent at hand to spare you a glance, spotting the fondness in your eyes and feeling a bit of color come to his face.

"Woah!", he'd been shoved, having nearly dropped his sword to steady himself, reaching a hand behind him to push himself back off the ground. Only to find that there was none supporting him.

You jumped in just as quickly as he was about to fall, appearing in front of him and grabbing the front of his shirt just as he was about to fly. You bring him in and step back, as he just looks at you for a second.

"... You do know that I would've been fine right?", he asks instead of saying thanks, a small smirk playing on his face as you stare at him for a second. Air hike... right.

"Would you rather I let you fall?", you're quick to respond as he just scoffs, shaking his head as he resumed where he left off with the devil.

He wasn't expecting you to be there, but he's glad that you care enough to come rushing for him like that. Next time he'll be the one saving you.

[distort-opia]

Do you think that Bruce, having lost his parents very early, has a very romanticized view of his own parents? You know, when you're a kid you remember something like that but... Things sometimes are not like they looked like. I ask this because more and more adaptations are appearing in which Bruce's parents were not nice to him or were even criminals. And to a certain extent, I kind of like it because most of the rich people in Gotham are criminals to some extent and I kept wondering why the Wayne's were so good... But I don't know if that's the case in the comics' Canon timeline.

Oh yeah I definitely think Bruce idealizes his parents, and especially his father. Multiple canonical comics have shown that his parents weren't perfect, not by a long shot; they loved Bruce, but they were also busy people with issues of their own. Meanwhile, Bruce was clearly an anxious child, deeply affected by his parents' occasional neglect... and his father, Thomas, didn't much like Bruce being so "emotional". There's more than one comic in which Thomas scolds Bruce for it, and Bruce has reactions that speak so much towards a desperate need for validation from him. Let's just say, it makes a lot of sense to me that Bruce ended up exhibiting certain toxic behaviors towards his own children. And that he internalized an idea of masculinity and fatherhood that's not the healthiest, either. Someone recently asked me about Bruce's traumas in childhood, and you'd be surprised how many are connected to his parents, and specifically Thomas; here's a link if you're curious (I cite many sources for the examples above).

Overall I'd say that in canon, Thomas and Martha Wayne aren't downright shitty horrible parents, or anything of the sort. Yeah, other adaptations basically made them criminals or abusive, and suggested that Bruce just repressed the bad memories or overwrote them (like in Batman: Damned, for example) but... I think the current picture suggested by canon is more compelling. Bruce's parents loved him and they tried their best to be good to him, but they were also flawed. The darkness that Bruce exhibits on more than one occasion was there in them too, as multiple alternate Universes show. Flashpoint has Martha turn into the Joker and Thomas into a brutal and unforgiving Batman. Batman/Superman #18 shows us a world in which Thomas was killed, but Bruce and Martha survived, with Martha establishing herself as a powerful person in Gotham's underworld, targeting criminals and villains because of her obsession for keeping Bruce safe. And I think all this is how it should be, Bruce's parents should be portrayed as complex individuals with a darker side too, simply because reacting to his parents' murder the way Bruce did isn't something anyone would do. For him to react so strongly, to dedicate his life to never healing and refusing to let go... tragically, it makes so much sense that before all that, Bruce deeply craved his parents' love and affection, but wasn't getting it enough. It makes sense that, if you take a child with insecure attachment who's already deeply hurt by any sign of neglect from his parents, and you have his parents die in front of him-- the ultimate form of being left behind, being abandoned-- he wouldn't respond in the healthiest of ways. It follows that he'd end up defining himself by that trauma, and forever fear loss.